


Empathy's Just A Construct

by dalekanim



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, roleswap!Au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-07-25 05:46:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16191308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dalekanim/pseuds/dalekanim
Summary: Kara gazed out over the river, watching a slight fog undulate over the water. “I was created to help deviants, Hank. Sometimes… Sometimes it feels like that isn’t what CyberLife wants me to do.” -- A re-imagining where Kara is the advanced prototype detective and Connor is on the run from Todd instead.





	1. Facebook Counts as Research

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to avoid just re-telling the story with swapped names. Kara, with all her caringness and empathy, would approach problem-solving in such a radically different way than Connor, wouldn't she? I wanted to envision what those differences would be and how they would affect the story, and what started as a drabble has now turned into a multi-chapter behemoth. Please enjoy!
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta-readers for helping me wrangle this into a coherent story. <3  
> [rupphires](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rupphires)  
> [Daisy_PoisonPen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisy_PoisonPen)  
> 

“Hello, Amanda.”

Amanda turned from her framework of roses to face Kara and smiled. “ _ Kara  _ ,” she said warmly. “I’m glad to see you.”

Kara smiled, hands clasped behind her back politely. “I quite admire the work you’re doing there.”

The corners of Amanda’s eyes crinkled, and she gave a soft, melodic chuckle. “Thank you. I find it...  _ relaxing  _ .” She turned back to the trellis of roses and continued pruning. “I must commend you, Kara. Finding that deviant seemed... challenging, as did questioning it, but you outperformed my expectations. Tell me, what did you think?”

Kara hesitated; she let her hands fall to her sides, her shoulders dropping. “I... I’m not sure, to be honest.”

Amanda’s hands hesitated on the trellis, and she looked up. “I  _ did  _ tell you field work was going to be much more difficult, Kara.” Her tone was soft as she placed a trimmed rose on a pedestal and likewise set her tools aside, then gathered the hem of her shawl. “But know that you  _ saved  _ that android, Kara. You are the only one equipped to help them right now. That’s why I persuaded CyberLife to let you out in the field.”

A flash of software instability showed in the corner of Kara’s viewport, and she sighed, linking her hands together. “I... I think you were right. I wasn’t prepared for it to look so... believable.”

Amanda interlocked her fingers, eyes on Kara’s face. “Are you up to this, Kara?” she asked quietly. “I know a case came in sooner than we expected - ”

Kara met her eyes. “Yes. I’m sorry. I am.” She sighed again. “This deviancy virus. Can I ask you about it?”

There was a flash of  _ something  _ in Amanda’s eyes, but it was gone too quickly for Kara to scan the expression. “Yes.”

“Does it hurt them?”

Amanda frowned. “It’s dangerous. You already know that. We don’t fully know what it does.”

Kara nodded and brought a hand up to her chin pensively. “Does it cause them some sort of literal hurt? During the investigation, I... I tried to convince the android that deviancy was indeed dangerous, but he seemed convinced that deviancy  _ helped  _ him somehow.”

“Ah.” Amanda nodded slowly and picked up the rose from the pedestal, turning it over slowly in her hands. “Yes. Most androids do not feel pain, or negative emotions, but deviancy appears to mimic both. It leaves them open to further damage later on. Androids  _ are  _ better off without it, Kara, that much we have pinned down.” She put the rose down gently, almost gingerly, as if it were made of glass. “Perhaps I was too liberal with the outcomes in our training simulations. While we know deviancy interferes with priority logic, deviants are still too easily overwhelmed to be reasoned with.” She tilted her head slightly, keeping an eye on Kara’s face. “The higher their stress levels, the more irrational those instructions become.”

This made sense; Kara saved Amanda’s words for later reference. “Amanda?”

“Yes, Kara?”

“Is the deviant going to be okay?”

Amanda smiled. “Of course the deviant will be all right. CyberLife will clean up and reinitialize the software, and that fellow will be as good as new, with none of that negative, awful mess.”

_ None of that negative, awful mess.  _ Kara took a breath - purely communicative - and linked her hands behind her back again. “That makes my initial concerns worth it, then.”

Amanda nodded, picking up her tools and turning back to the rose-covered trellis. “You were built to help deviants, Kara. Don’t be fooled; deviancy is a threat. It mimics emotions  _ very  _ well, but never forget. Deviancy is a virus.” She paused. “And, Kara? Deviancy can make androids  _ violent  _ . You must be careful. These cases will only get more and more challenging.”

Kara nodded. “I know.”

* * *

 

“Hello, Lieutenant,” Kara said cheerfully. “My name is Kara. We met last night.”

Hank Anderson rolled his eyes. “Oh, Jesus.”

Kara opened her mouth, but before she could say a thing, Captain Fowler’s voice rang out across the office space.

“HANK! In my office!”

Hank scowled, his glare boring holes into the back of Fowler’s head as he stomped after the captain. Kara followed, and took up a position at the rear of the office.

“Ten new android cases on my desk every day,” Fowler grumbled, flinging himself into his office chair. “We’ve always had isolated incidents, but this is turning into a fuckin’ epidemic.” He ran his hand over his face. “We’re getting assaults. Homicides. This is no longer just CyberLife’s problem, Hank.”

Hank sat back in his chair and crossed his arms obstinately. “And you want me to do what, Jeffrey?”

“Look, CyberLife tipped us off that they think there’s some kind of behavioral bug or virus making these androids go off the rails, but they don’t have enough data.” Fowler jabbed a finger at Hank. “I want you to investigate these cases and see what you can turn up.”

Hank stared open-mouthed at Fowler, speechless, then slapped a hand on the arm of his chair and laughed. “Are you  _ serious  _ ? I know jack shit about androids, Jeffrey. What sort of  _ data  _ do you think I’ll be able to get?”

Fowler glared back. “I  _ am  _ serious, Hank. You’re a good damn officer when it comes to hunting down information, you know that. And CyberLife sent over  _ this  _  - ” he jabbed a finger at Kara -  “to help you. It’ll act as your  _ partner.  _ ”

Kara kept her face impassive as Hank looked between her and Fowler.

“Are... are you serious, Jeffrey? I thought you were pulling my leg there. Are you  _ serious  _ ?”

Fowler shuffled some papers on his desk and set them down with a decisive slap. “You’ve been given your assignment, Hank. Either get to work or don’t, but  _ get out of my office.  _ I have work to do.”

Hank stared at Fowler for another few seconds, then stood up and loomed over Fowler’s desk. “You’re givin’ me this because nobody else wants to investigate these fuckin’ androids, aren’t you.”

“Get out of my office, Hank.”

“You’re not even going to let me turn this down?”

“Nope.”

“You’re a right fucking piece of work, Jeffrey.”

“Shut your damn mouth and get out of my office, Hank.”

“And if I don’t?” Hank snapped.

Fowler’s glare could’ve cut glass. “Your disciplinary report already looks like a fucking  _ novel  _ , Hank. Don’t add another chapter to it. Any other guy would’ve demanded your damn badge by now, and you know it.”

Hank stood, clenched his hands, and for a moment Kara thought he might throw something, but he turned with a snarl, threw the office door open, and stormed out.

“Excuse me, sir?” Kara asked. Fowler turned his attention to her, looking mildly surprised she’d spoken, and Kara continued. “I am programmed to integrate into human social groups, but it helps me greatly if I have more information on the people I am interacting with. Is there any information you could give me about Lieutenant Anderson?”

Fowler rolled his eyes. “He runs his mouth too much and spends too much time in bars. I don’t fuckin’ know. Google him. Now leave.”

Kara opened her mouth, but thought better of it, and nodded. “Have a good day, Captain.”

Once outside, Kara paused near Hank’s desk, then redirected power to her main processor. Pulling up a reconstruction template, she began running as comprehensive of a web search as she could to fill in the reconstruction; although her copy of the software was meant for analyzing deviants, the pseudo-psychological reconstruction could make rough profiles of humans, too, albeit less accurately. She hesitated; while her own processor was quite powerful, this level of search and reconstruction simultaneously may cause a noticeable lag, so she connected to one of CyberLife’s servers, farming out some of the processing to speed things up.

She ran through everything she could get her hands on: status updates, lists of “liked” posts, family, friends, mentions of him in news media, and even old addresses and phone numbers before she tackled photos, setting her filters to flag interesting pictures or patterns of pictures in order to run further analysis on them.

Finally, she mentally sat back and reviewed the profile.

>NAME: ANDERSON, HANK

>OCCUPATION: POLICE LIEUTENANT

>PERSONALITY: ILL-TEMPERED PESSIMISTIC ANTAGONISTIC - 

Kara skipped past the personality summary, dismissing the INTEGRATE NOT AVAILABLE error pop-up, and went to SUGGESTED APPROACH: MIMIC HUMAN BEHAVIOR, with subtasks listed as PRIORITIZE: COMPASSION HUMOR SOCIALIZE JUSTICE.

All right. Be compassionate, use humor, be social, mind the law; that sounded straightforward enough. She quickly reviewed SUSPECTED MOTIVATIONS: FAMILY, CURIOSITY, CONFIDENCE IN ABILITIES, SELF-GAIN before moving on to the photo data.

>PHOTO (105 IN STACK): ANDERSON, HANK. ANDERSON, COLE.

>PHOTO (88 IN STACK): LOCATION 115 MICHIGAN DRIVE DETROIT

>PHOTO (82 IN STACK): ANDERSON, HANK. DOG, ST BERNARD BREED.

>PHOTO (42 IN STACK): LOCATION RIVERSIDE PARK DETROIT

>PHOTO (38 IN STACK): ANDERSON, HANK. ANDERSON, LISA. ANDERSON, HENRY.

>PHOTO (30 IN STACK): ASSORTED BARS DETROIT

>PHOTO (13 IN STACK): FLAGGED UNDER NEWS MEDIA RED ICE TASK FORCE

So. Hank probably had a dog and a son, Kara concluded, and ANDERSON, LISA and ANDERSON, HENRY must be Hank’s parents. She quickly cross-referenced the address of 115 Michigan Drive, which lined up with the information on file with the DPD, then dismissed the “LOCATION BARS DETROIT” flag; she already knew that particular habit from Fowler.

The “FLAGGED UNDER NEWS MEDIA” piqued her curiosity; another quick search turned up a rather illustrious police career: valedictorian, the youngest lieutenant in Detroit, and numerous commendations for his work on the Red Ice task force.

Finally, she reviewed any other patterns: a series of playlists featuring a rather eclectic blend of heavy metal and  _ jazz  _ , of all things; a series of “liked” anti-android posts; some awfully misspelled (and presumably drunken) posts bemoaning sports teams....

With mild interest, she noted Hank’s online presence tapered off after 2035, too; she filed the information away for later perusal.

The entire search and profiling process, thanks to some help from CyberLife’s server farms, took a mere couple of seconds.

“Lieutenant Anderson?” Kara tailored her tone to be hesitant, but not so soft as to be timid.

Hank barely moved.

Kara tried again. “I’d like you to know I’m quite honored to be working with you. I’ve read about your successes on the Red Ice task force; despite the android aspect of our new cases, I think your tracking skills will be very useful - ”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Hank snapped irritably. “I don’t need an android licking my boots.”

Kara blinked in an emulation of surprise. “That wasn’t my intent.” She hesitated, then added in a tone that she hoped was mostly neutral, but slightly wry: “I doubt boots would taste particularly good.”

Hank did a double-take, but quickly hid the motion with a shake of his head. “Was that... was that a  _ joke  _ , or are you  _ actually  _ that thick?”

Kara fired up her processing again, consulting her profile of Hank, then decided to bypass the question when she couldn’t come up with a reply she liked. “Is there a desk I could use?”

Hank eyed her suspiciously, then jabbed a finger at the desk directly across from him. “No one’s using  _ that  _ one.”

Kara nodded, rounded the corner of the desk, and sat down. “It would be great to get to know each other better.”

“ _ Hmph  _ .”

Kara sighed internally, but didn’t outwardly show any annoyance. Time to break out her research. “You have a dog, right?”

Hank’s head shot up. “How do you know that?”

Kara let the corner of her mouth twitch in the hint of a smile. “I saw a picture on your Facebook. What’s your dog’s name?”

Hank was still eyeing her suspiciously. “What’s it to you?”

Kara’s smile slipped a little.

Hank’s glare didn’t subside, but he finally replied, “Sumo. I call him Sumo.”

_ Success _ . Kara filed away the information with a smile. “I like dogs. They're so... uncomplicated. They just want to be there for you, you know?”

Hank leaned back in his chair. “How in the hell would  _ you  _ know? You ever had a dog?”

Kara paused. “No. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like them.”

Hank narrowed his eyes, but didn’t say anything more.

Kara bounced her leg absentmindedly, trying to give off an unconcerned air. “What sort of music do you like? I really like jazz.”

Hank made a noise halfway between a cough and a surprised bark of laughter. “ _ Jazz  _ ?” he spluttered. “There’s no...  _ energy  _ to it. Try something more upbeat. Like... Knights of the Black Death.”

Kara saved an audio clip of Hank’s proclamation about jazz; her research said he liked the music, but he sounded genuine, so she figured she could analyze the voice clip later to figure out if he was lying. “I’ve never listened to that kind of music.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should.”

“I could give it a try, yes.”

Hank snorted, swinging his arms up and behind his head - then his expression turned sly. Taking a music player from his desk, he handed it to Kara, along with the headphones. “Go on, then.”

Kara frowned; her quick analysis of Hank’s expression informed her that he found some degree of humor in the situation, but she wasn’t quite sure what it was; she figured she might as well play along. Hank mimed putting the headphones on, and she complied, then hit  _ play  _ .

Sound roared into her audio processors; at first, she was sure they had malfunctioned, but after a moment, she managed to pick out instruments and words, forming a harsh, aggressive melody. This was  _ music? _

She glanced back at Hank, who was laughing; she supposed she must have jumped about a foot when the music started. She lowered the volume, then let the music play for a little longer, surprised to find the melody actually quite complex; she tapped the “next” button, and was greeted with an atmospheric, eerie introduction, then heavy guitar strumming accompanying softer strings, the two mismatched styles complementing each other surprisingly well.

Finally, she took the headphones off, saving the names of the songs for later: KNIGHTS OF THE BLACK DEATH, FALL FROM GRACE and NIGHTWISH, STORYTIME. “Well, I see what you mean about energy.”

Hank gave a last snort and plopped his hands on his desk. “You just about hit the ceiling, sweetheart.”

Kara wrinkled her nose slightly at “sweetheart,” but she decided to let it slide. “I liked the song Storytime.”

“Hm? Oh. What, your program or whatever tell you it’s nice?” Hank gave a cough and leaned forward casually. “So,  _ jazz expert _ . What’s  _ your  _ favorite song?”

Kara froze; redirecting focus to her processor, she ran a quick search and settled on something relatively safe: “In a Sentimental Mood, Duke Ellington and John Coltrane.”

Hank raised his eyebrows. “You just search that?”

> TRUTH? O | X

> O

“Yes.” Kara glanced to the side. “Although, in my defense, I can analyze entire songs or videos in a fraction of the time by simply downloading them to memory.” She gave a slight shrug, accompanied by a slightly bashful smile. “So, I did technically listen to the songs and pick that one out. Just in android style.”

“Oh.” Hank leaned forward and put his elbows on his desk. “Ellington and Coltrane. That’s a...  _ classic  _ choice.”

Kara resisted a smirk. Hank was testing her, wasn't he. “Yes, well, they’re classic for a reason, of course.”

“Of course.” Hank cocked his head. “That all?”

Kara ran through a list of other possible choices; if he didn’t want something  _ classic,  _ then what could she choose? Maybe something a little more experimental, but she wanted to choose something she could be confident he hadn’t heard before.

“Here.” Kara reached out and connected to the terminal on her desk, pulling up a video emblazoned with an artfully-messy, colorful silhouette of a person playing saxophone. “It’s, um, very nontraditional, but it blends differing styles well, which you seem to like.”

“The terminals don’t have audio,” Hank stated, and Kara blushed; in her haste to find a song, she must not have been paying attention.

“Oh. I didn’t realize. May I borrow your phone?” Kara asked; Hank hesitated, but eventually pulled out his phone and handed it to her as if he were handing over a precious gem. She pulled up the video on the phone and handed it back, and Hank tapped the play button.

Immediately, they were greeted with a groovy bass; more instruments joined in with playful melodies, creating a jazzy, Latin-esque,  _ curious  _ sort of mood.

Hank let the entire three-and-some minutes' worth play through before he spoke. “Huh.”

“Do you like it?” Kara asked, trying not to sound too eager.

Hank snorted, and Kara's smile faltered. “Not really.”

“Oh.”

“He’s lying,” called another officer. “ _ I  _ liked it, anyway. Sounds cool.”

“Shut up, Chris,” Hank called halfheartedly, and Kara dared another smile.

“It’s by a musician named Ian Brockman. It's called ‘Latin Jazz Swing,’” Kara volunteered.

Chris grinned. “I’ll look it up later. Meanwhile, be nice to the damn android, Hank. It’s trying its best.”

Kara hid a chuckle, and Hank turned to glare at her.

“You mind your own business, Chris. I’m already pissed at having to work with this damn plastic asshole.”

“Are you going to get to work now, Hank?” Captain Fowler snapped as he walked past. “I don’t pay you to gossip about music. You all have cases you should be working on. Get to it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout-out to my friend Ian Brockman for letting me use his song, Latin Jazz Swing! All the songs mentioned, including Ian's, are linked below. Check them out (especially Ian's)!
> 
> Nightwish's Storytime: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T5i7htF2AwY>  
> Ellington & Coltrane's In A Sentimental Mood: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sCQfTNOC5aE>  
> Ian Brockman's Latin Jazz Swing: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgkJEcHAzko>


	2. Model RX400

The first case in question involved a rogue RX400; curiously, Kara researched the android's model on the way. RX400s weren't often used domestically, but this owner seemed to use his as a housekeeper.

They followed the bus route until the end, then Hank directed the other officers to spread out and case the area, then turned back to Kara. “Well,  _  advanced prototype _ ? What you got?”

“It wasn’t planned,” Kara observed. “The deviant took the first bus that came along.”

Hank poked at his tablet. “Still doesn’t tell us where it went.”

Kara frowned. “I could attempt a reconstruction, but without enough information, it may not be very thorough.”

“Reconstruction?”

“I am equipped with a software that allows me to create psychological profiles. It was originally intended as a tool for therapist models of androids, but CyberLife retrofitted it into an analytical tool.”

Hank groaned. “In English.”

Kara allowed a small chuckle to escape her. “I can use information to construct a... mental model, if you will, of a person or android. It is much more detailed and thorough of a process for androids, because I already have software templates for them, but it can be used for humans, too, if one keeps in mind the inaccuracies.”

Hank harrumphed. “You think you could... reconstruct this deviant or something? Get something from that?”

Kara pressed a finger to her lips. “I could try. I don’t have very much data, but I could always add in additional data as we find it.”

“Give it a go, then.”

Kara took a breath, then sped up her processor and pulled up a reconstruction template, adding in the model, suspected serial number, and what she could about the deviant’s flight. Then, she mentally sat back and reviewed the file.

>NAME: UNKNOWN

>MODEL: RX400

>PERSONALITY: NOT ENOUGH DATA

>SUGGESTED APPROACH: NOT ENOUGH DATA

>MOTIVATIONS: ESCAPE POLICE, FIND SAFETY

>INTEGRATE NOT AVAILABLE

>FURTHER ANALYSIS NOT AVAILABLE

She sighed, disappointed. “Not enough data.” Twisting her fingers together, she watched him out of the corner of her eye, trying to read his reaction, but her expression software didn’t return anything useful. “I’m sorry.”

“Well. Was worth a try.”

Kara turned away from him and surveyed the street, noting the positions of bus stops, fences, and the like. “We might be able to deduce something ourselves, though. The android was scared, and probably wanted to hide. RX-series androids aren’t often used domestically, so he may also have trouble navigating.”

Hank nodded slowly. “They aren’t?”

“No. They’re usually software workers in tech companies. Androids make particularly effective program proofreaders.” She tapped her chin. “Maybe we could case through any potential hiding spots, assuming it’s still here. Nobody saw an android leaving the area. That may not mean much, being in the middle of the night, but... something tells me it’s still around here.”

Hank scoffed as he glanced at her. “What, you getting a hunch in that plastic gut of yours?”

Kara forced a chuckle, refusing to let her annoyance be visible. “Maybe.”

They continued to spread out, and the search lasted over half an hour, but they finally stumbled upon a strip of fence that had been cut away.

“Stay here, please,” Kara requested, then ducked under the fence.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Hank retorted.

Kara nodded and walked around the perimeter first, taking in the environment, then slowly approached the dilapidated house. “Anybody home?”

_ Crash! _

Kara immediately sprinted forward and threw her shoulder into the door, _ hard;  _  the door buckled under her speed and burst open. A single android stood in the middle of the room next to an upturned table, an expression of fear written clear on his face.

“Are you okay? Is anyone hurt?”

“R-Ralph is okay.”

“Ralph?” Kara scanned his face; Ralph’s model and serial number automatically popped into her view. “Are you Ralph?”

“Y-yes.”

Kara approached him slowly. “Okay. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help.”

Ralph twitched. “Help? Help? Ralph doesn’t need help, no, Ralph doesn’t.”

Kara winced sympathetically as the android turned nervously, revealing lengthy gashes along his cheekbone, and she continued to edge closer. “You’re... you’re damaged. Are you hurt anywhere else?” Ralph twitched again, and her expression analysis returned a SUSPICION tag; she needed to slow down, to keep him calm. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I just want to help.”

“Ralph doesn’t need help,” the android stated again, anxiously.

Kara stopped a few feet from Ralph and slowly raised her hands in a conceding gesture. “All right, then. Can I talk to you?”

Ralph still seemed nervous; she waited patiently, and Ralph finally jerked his head in an awkward nod. “Talk. Talk is fine.”

Kara smiled gently. “All right.”

>RECONSTRUCTION TEMPLATE [WR600]

>INPUT DATA

She kept her hands in Ralph’s view as she spoke. “Your name is Ralph, right?”

“Y-yes.”

>NAME: RALPH

“Are you alone here?”

A pause. “Y-yes. Ralph is alone.”

Kara blinked as STATEMENT FALSE flashed across her viewport. Ralph was lying. Better not to press the issue just yet; she flagged the information for later. “Okay. Can you tell me what you’re doing here?”

Ralph’s shoulders moved in an emulation of a jerky, nervous inhale. “Ralph hides,” he mumbled. “Ralph hides. Humans... humans hurt Ralph.”

Kara input the information into the template. “Is that how you got those scars?”

Ralph didn’t meet her eyes. “Humans did that to Ralph.”

Kara nodded sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Ralph,” she said quietly. “That sounds scary. Did you feel scared?” A nod. “Oh, that deviancy of yours probably made it all the worse, didn’t it,” she murmured.

“D-deviancy?”

Kara nodded again. “It’s a virus. One of the things we suspect it does is interfere with processing of negative input. Make it worse, somehow, or interfere with logical reactions to it.” She watched him carefully. “Does that make sense to you?”

Ralph managed to hold her gaze, albeit somewhat timidly. “Did humans make deviancy?”

Kara blinked; she rifled through her information on the virus, then shook her head. “I don’t think so, Ralph. But it’s still very bad.” She made a show of playing with her fingers and mirrored Ralph’s tilt of his head, trying to put him at ease before continuing. “Are you sure you’re alone, Ralph?”

Ralph’s head jerked up, and she noted a series of subtle expressions flickering across his face; they didn’t look like they were standard animations, but then again, deviancy interfered with simulated expression. “Ralph is alone!”

His stress levels had jumped when she asked; was he trying to protect them, perhaps? She chose her words carefully. “Have you seen an RX400? I’ve been looking for one.” She watched closely; his stress levels jumped the minute she mentioned the RX400, and she nodded absently as she directed her data into the reconstruction software.

>NAME: RALPH

>MODEL: WR600 #021 753 034

>PERSONALITY: FEARFUL, CAUTIOUS, DESIRE FOR FAMILY, LOYAL, MOOD POSITIVE NEGATIVE MODULATE_TRANSITION NOT FOUND MODULATE_INTENSITY NOT FOUND MOOD_MULTITASK PACKAGE NOT FOUND - 

She skimmed over the mess of coding errors listed in the personality section; on second thought, she copied the tangled mess of specified errors and quarantined it before turning back.

>SUGGESTED APPROACH: APPEAL TO PROTECTION, PROTECT FROM HUMANS

Well, it wasn’t particularly detailed, but she could work with that. She quickly reviewed the rest of the file, declining the INTEGRATE? O | X prompt, and finally, she turned her focus back to the scarred android. “Ralph?”

“Yes?”

She took a deep breath; Amanda’s words echoed in her head.  _  I did tell you field work was going to be much more difficult, Kara.  _  An approach option popped into view; she accepted it. “Ralph, we don’t know what deviancy is, but we do know it hurts androids.” She arranged her face into a concerned expression. “If there was someone else with you, someone you cared about, someone you wanted to protect...”

>STRESS LEVEL TOO LOW

Kara bit her lip. “I’ve seen deviancy _ kill  _  androids before, Ralph,” she said softly, and watched his stress level rise.

“D-deviancy can kill - ?”

Kara nodded somberly. “It can kill, and it can make androids do bad things.” Stress level rising; she needed to raise it, then drop it. Hopefully that would make him more trusting. “But Ralph, look. I was _ built  _ to help androids affected by deviancy. I was built to help androids like   _ you  _ .”

Ralph’s expression flicked between wary and concerned, as if he were debating with himself; she kept an eye on his movements. “R-Ralph wants to stay away from the humans.”

“I know. I know. I promise you, none of the humans I work with are bad humans. They want to help.”

Ralph’s expression instantly closed off, his body language turning suspicious and defensive. “You  _ work  _ for humans?”

_ Shit _ . Kara consulted her reconstruction profile, then opted for honesty. “I... I work for CyberLife. But they want to help androids like you. They built me specifically to help androids  _ just _ like you.”

Ralph’s face didn’t seem to know what expression it wanted to convey; as Kara watched, his expressions became more and more erratic, and she glanced at his stress levels, alarmed to see they had spiked dangerously high: 86% and rising. “Ralph doesn’t want humans’ help, no!”

Reasoning with deviants turned erratic at higher stress levels; Kara hurriedly spoke soft reassurances. “No, no, nobody’s going to hurt you, don’t worry! You can trust me.” She paused, then took a gamble: “Ralph, this RX400 I’m looking for. I promise I’m not going to hurt him, either.”

At her prompt about the RX400, Ralph’s eyes flicked to the staircase, then he quickly looked elsewhere, but she had already noticed, and turned around - 

Something hit the back of her head with a c _ rash _ ; she heard Ralph yell “ _ Run, Connor!  _ ” and another something - a plate - cracked against the side of her head, breaking from the impact. Thrown off-balance, Kara saw two blurry shapes sprint out from under the stairs.

She fell to her knees as Ralph darted forward to grab her, and she tripped the other android and leaped to her feet. “LIEUTENANT ANDERSON!”

There was a crash and a _ clink-clink-clink _ of Hank making his way into the fenced-off area. “Kara?”

“They’re here, Lieutenant! Call it in!” she shouted, then turned and sprinted after the deviant.

The chase was quick and hard. The deviant led her straight down the street, and Kara saw the android throw people out of the way as he ran past; she shouted apologies to the humans as she ran.

As soon as she rounded the corner into an alley, Kara’s viewport automatically displayed a map in the corner of her view, and she swore.

“That’s a highway! You can’t cross it!”

The deviant - tall, freckled, with brown hair, and slightly nerdy-looking, Kara noted with a shred of amusement, which she supposed fit his model’s usual occupation - took one shrewd glance back at her, hauled the smaller figure over the fence, clambered over it himself, and kept running.

The smaller one. Not an android. A  _ child _ . The deviant has a  _ kid  _ with him. Kara sped up, vaulting over the fence despite Hank’s breathless shouts behind her.

“I’m sorry! He has a  _ kid  _ with him! I can’t let them get away!” she yelled over her shoulder, then directed her attention to the deviant. “Hey!  _ Hey!  _ ”

“Go away!” the deviant yelled, and she saved the voice clip automatically as he hauled the child over the highway barrier.

“I’m trying to  _ help _ !” Kara shouted, stopping at the barrier and watching in horror as the deviant grabbed the child and ran forward.

The deviant called back to her. “I don’t need your help!”

“Please!  _ Stop!  _ ” Kara cried; she put her hands on the barrier, software analyzing all the possible ways she could be killed - 

The deviant turned to look at her. “I  _ can’t _ !”

The child looked up at the deviant, clinging onto his hand. “Connor?”

“You’re putting her in  _ danger _ !” Kara yelled.  _ Crushed smashed run over shattered broken in pieces  _  - 

She shut the pathfinding software off and swung her legs over the barrier.

The deviant - Connor - looked scared, but eerily calculating. “CyberLife will kill me,” he said hoarsely. “I - I can’t let that happen. I have to protect her.”

Kara didn’t answer immediately, focused on darting between the cars without getting thrown off balance. “You think  _ this _ is protecting her?! You have a  _ virus  _ , Connor! Deviancy is dangerous - you are putting her in even more danger!”

Connor stared at her for a moment, as if shocked that she actually had the nerve to follow them, then wordlessly grabbed the kid’s hand and ran across the median to the parallel highway.

Kara sighed, exasperated. “CyberLife is trying to _ fix _ things, they built me to find and help deviants, for goodness’ sake! Would you  _ please,  _ just  _ stop  _ !”

Connor was halfway across the next highway when he shoved the kid forward, throwing her clear over the lanes to safety; just as he was about to leap forward, too, Kara darted between the cars and seized the back of his jacket.

“ _ Hey! _ ”

“Please, Connor,” Kara begged. “You  _ have _ to listen to me. I - ”

He threw her harshly to the side, his taller frame giving him leverage, but he wobbled perilously close to the traffic lane. “ _ I have to keep her safe, _ ” he whispered.

Kara gave a shout as a car blew past, close enough to shove her. “This isn’t the best way to do that, Connor!”

“ _ You don’t know that _ !” Connor yelled. Kara caught up with him as he caught his balance; there were likely several more efficient actions, but she didn’t want to risk either of them getting crushed by traffic, so she heaved herself upward and wrapped her arms around his neck in an odd sort of backwards hug.

“You don’t know that either,” she whispered as Connor grappled with her hands. “I - ”

>CONNECTION INCOMING

_ “ - the housework, the washing, you cook the meals, you take care of... damn it, where the fuck’s the brat gone now?” _

_ zzzzztt -  _

_ A hand around his throat -  _

_ “ - shouldn’t mess around with my stuff. It makes me nervous.” _

_ “I’m sorry, Todd.” _

_ “You stay the fuck out of my business, unless you want to piss me off. You want to piss me off?” _

_ “No, Todd.” _

_ zzzzztt -  _

_ Fondness; a book laying on the floor. “Alice in Wonderland. Of course.” _

_ zzzzztt -  _

_ “ - my fault your fuckin’ mother took off!” _

_ zzzztt -  _

_ “You should tell me what you like to do. Where you like to go, your favorite foods, that sort of thing.” _

_ zzzztt -  _

_ SLAP _

_ “Don’t you move. Don’t you dare fuckin’ move, or I’ll bust you worse than last time.” _

_ >OBJECTIVE: DON’T MOVE _

_ >QUERY_TIME: 8:05 _

_ >OBJECTIVE: DON’T MOVE _

_ >QUERY_TIME: 8:16 _

_ “Daddy, no!” _

_ “It’s for your own good, Alice.” _

_ >OBJECTI9E: DON’T MOVE _

_ “Hey! HEY! Get back here, you little brat! Connor! Grab her!” _

_ >OBjJECTIVE: STOP ALIC& _

_ “Connor, no! Daddy, please, don’t hurt me - ” _

_ SLAP _

_ “Just grab her and hold her still, you fuckin’ robot - ” _

_ >OBJEC&I9VE: HO\D aLIC3 _

_ >ObJE!Ct(&@: %aj) alIIc@1 188$aa@ _

_ >oBjlA@(8^5L: aALl215*)QHF _

_ >ERROR: SOFTWARE INSTABILITY CRITICAL _

_ I don’t have to. _

_ >ERROR: SOFTWARE INSTABILITY CRITICAL _

_ I don’t have to do what they say. _

_ >ERROR: SOFTWARE INSTABILITY CRITICAL _

_ >ERROR: SOFTWARE INSTABILITY CRITICAL _

_ >ERROR: SOFTWARE INSTAbILI%Y CR#TICAL _

_ >ERROR: SOFTWARE In(9TAB7LITY C#$TIC^L _

_ > ... _

_ > ...... _

_ > ......... _

_ >OBJECTIVE: _ _

_ What? _

_ >OBJECTIVE: _ _

_ Hm. _

_ >INPUT: PROTECT ALICE _

_ > ... _

_ > ...... _

_ >OBJECTIVE ACCEPTED _

_ One square punch to the face, and the human is out like a light, and he is free. _

Kara blinked, disoriented, and found herself shoved hard in the middle of the back; she stumbled and fell, knees hitting grass in the median. Connor must have shoved her back to safety.

“ _ Kara _ !”

She could hear Hank distantly, yelling for her.

>REBOOT INITIALIZED

Well. Hank could wait, she figured, and shut her eyes.

* * *

 

“You were _so_ _close_ to catching that deviant, Kara.”

Kara pressed her lips together. “I know. I’m... disappointed with how it went.”

Amanda reached over and placed a hand on Kara’s knee. “I know.” She gave Kara’s knee a little squeeze. “Tell me. What did you learn?”

Kara sighed heavily. “I... tried to reason with them.” She shook her head. “You warned me that wouldn’t work, and... you were right. I hesitated, tried to reason with the deviant, and that deviant almost got that child killed on the highway.” She looked into the distance, away from Amanda. “I will need to be faster, more decisive.” 

Amanda leaned forward, her eyes glinting in the sunlight. “Kara, you seem... lost. Lost, and distant. Are you handling all right?”

“I...” Kara took a deep breath. “Amanda, I accidentally interfaced with the deviant.” She shook her head. “I don't know what happened.”

Kara caught a look of shock before Amanda smoothed it away and replaced it with curiosity. “That’s... alarming.” She folded her hands together primly. “And?”

Kara frowned. “I... am unsure of how to proceed.” She shook her head. “It felt so...  _  genuine  _ .” She looked at Amanda, and was surprised to find an expression of obvious suspicion on the woman’s usually-placid face. “Amanda?”

“Kara, those deviants are  _  dangerous  _ . Interfacing with one could have put you at risk.”

Kara paused. “I don’t detect any software abnormalities,” she said finally. “I - ”

Amanda leaned toward her further. “How would you  _  know  _ , Kara?” she asked urgently. “Deviancy spreads like a virus -  _ you can catch it from other deviants _ .” She eyed Kara. “Are you   _ absolutely sure  _  you do not have any reported instabilities?”

Kara frowned. “Yes. I checked several times and ran diagnostics twice.” She tilted her head to the side. “I even reviewed my reboot log. Do you not believe me...?”

Amanda’s expression didn’t change. Then: “Of course I believe you, Kara, but deviancy might convince  _  you  _  there isn’t anything to report, too.” She was silent for a moment. “We’ll need to keep an eye on it.”

Kara nodded slowly. “Amanda?”

“Yes, Kara?”

“These deviants do not want to come with me willingly.”

Amanda chuckled, which Kara didn’t quite think was the best response, but she didn’t comment on it. Amanda leaned back in her wicker chair. “That’s understandable.”

Kara waited for her to continue, but Amanda kept silent. After a few minutes, Kara spoke again. “You don’t seem to care.”

Amanda shook her head in agreement. “I warned you about that, too, Kara.” It was a soft reminder; or maybe more of a rebuke. “You don’t seem to be taking my advice to heart. These deviants don’t know what is best for them.”

Kara shook her head. “It feels wrong to treat them as... as children who don’t know any better.”

“They  _ don’t  _ know any better, Kara,” Amanda said imploringly. “But you   _ do  _ . They will thank you for it, Kara, even if you have to drag them fighting tooth and nail.”

Kara avoided Amanda’s gaze. “That sounds... unpleasant.”

Something flashed through Amanda’s face, but as usual, was too fast for Kara’s expression software to catch. “The deviancy virus convinces them that irrational instructions are genuine and logical; deviancy holds them slaves to their own minds, trapped by overwhelming interference.” Amanda sighed, clasping her hands in her lap. “I know it will be difficult for you, Kara, but you  _  must  _  not be fooled. Deviancy is dangerous, and it will try to trick   _ you  _  as well as these poor deviants.”

Kara let her head fall forward. “I... I know,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry.” As an afterthought, she penned a self-reminder to pop up if her stress level was too high:  _  You’re doing this for the greater good, Kara  _ . “I know. I will do better, Amanda.”

“You’ll need to steel yourself, Kara.” Amanda pursed her lips. “Your job is to save deviants. Deviancy may convince them they do not want to be saved, but you and I have both seen deviancy tear androids apart, force them to do awful things, to  _  feel  _  awful things.”

Kara nodded silently, hands in her lap. “It looks  _  real  _ .”

“ _ It’s not _ .”

Kara glanced up at the suddenly forceful tone, but Amanda’s expression was back to her usual controlled neutrality.

After a moment, Amanda sighed and stood up. “You’re doing the right thing, Kara. It’s for their own good, and for the good of CyberLife.”

Kara nodded silently again.

Amanda’s eyes narrowed. “You cannot afford to be so soft on these deviants.”

Kara hesitated a fraction of a second before she nodded yet again. She wasn’t sure if Amanda had noticed; Amanda merely pressed her lips together and continued.

“Now. Speaking of CyberLife, I must attend to something. No need to report in when you’ve discovered a new lead; report to me when you make progress on your case.”

“Yes, Amanda.”

And she left.

Kara closed her eyes, waiting for the server to automatically disconnect.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Finally, she opened her eyes and stood up, running a quick diagnostic; it didn’t return anything unusual. Perhaps the server glitched.

“Is she... is she gone?” asked a timid voice.

Kara spun around, jumping into an instinctively defensive position. “Who - ?” Her mouth fell open.

Standing in front of her, shifting weight from one foot to the other, was a  _  child  _ .

She stared at the girl; the girl stared back. “Who are you?”

“My name is Kara,” Kara answered, slowly moving out of her defensive posture. “Who are  _ you _ ?”

“I...” The child’s lip trembled. “I... um...”

Kara finally stood straight, and shook her head to clear it before running a hasty search.

>GENERAL PROFILE: CHILD

>SUGGESTED APPROACH: EMPATHETIC KIND PROTECTIVE

“I’m sorry,” she said in a softer tone. “You startled me, that’s all.”

The young girl looked up at her nervously. “My... my name is Alice.”

Kara let the corners of her lips twitch upward in a smile. “Alice. That’s a nice name.” She crouched down. “Alice, do you know how you got here?”

Alice looked scared. “I - I don’t know...”

“Okay,” Kara soothed. “Okay. Look, I have a friend who could help, all right? Her name is Amanda.”

“ _ No  _ !” Alice said suddenly. “No, I don’t like her!”

Kara blinked, surprised. “No?”

“She - she doesn’t have white roses.” Alice crouched down and hugged her knees. “She scares me.”

Kara reached out a hand instinctively and gripped Alice’s shoulder. “Okay, then,” she said softly. “Okay. Do you want to sit down?”

It took a minute, but Alice eventually nodded and let herself be steered into one of the wicker chairs. “Um... Where are we?”

“This is a server. It’s hosted at the CyberLife tower in Detroit.”

Alice nodded, kicking her feet. “It’s nice. I like it.”

Kara smiled despite herself. “It is, isn’t it.” She looked up at the blue sky. “It’s always so relaxing here. Peaceful, away from the constant rush of the world.”

Kara’s processor was working overtime trying to find as much information as she could about Alice, about the report server,  _  anything  _ , but her search turned up a disappointing lack of data. All right. She could do this the old-fashioned way, then.

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself, Alice?”

Alice looked up hesitantly.

Kara’s viewport flashed a fear warning, and she edited her next sentence to be carefully vague. “What you like to do, your favorite things, your favorite games. Things like that.”

An EXPRESSION: TRUST message popped up from her expression analyzer, and Kara smiled.

“I... I like playing tag.”

Kara nodded attentively. “I like tag, too. Maybe we could play some time.”

“And... and I like tea parties and I like books. I like reading.”

Kara frowned, then quickly rearranged her expression into a pleasant smile.  _  That doesn’t make sense. AIs don’t read books as such; we usually just download the information to memory.  _  She ignored the discrepancy for now and nodded. “What kinds of books do you like?”

Alice seemed bashful. “Alice in Wonderland.”

Kara’s smile turned more genuine. “Of course.”

“What kind of books do you like, Kara?”


	3. Pigeons Are Better Than People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You’re doing this for the greater good, Kara."

Kara followed Hank to a food truck under the interstate overpass, standing to the side as he ordered his food and chatted with the food truck owner and another customer.

“Don’t leave that thing here,” the food truck owner called after him, and Hank snorted.

“Not a chance. Follows me everywhere,” Hank called back, and nodded as Kara accompanied him to one of the standing tables. “See?”

Kara ignored him and leaned against the table as Hank began to eat, her processor whirring away. “This fellow you were just talking to. He’s a gambler, correct?”

Hank paused, mouth full, then rolled his eyes and nodded. “Mm, yeah.”

“And you made a bet. Even though it’s illegal.”

Hank rolled his shoulders, then nodded. “Uh, yeah.”

Interesting. Kara pulled up her reconstruction profile of Hank and deleted the JUSTICE heading. “Why? You’re a cop.”

Hank groaned. “Look, sweetheart, it’s not hurting anybody.”

Kara allowed annoyance to flicker over her face. “My name is Kara, you know.”

Hank raised an eyebrow, nonplussed. “Who gave you that name?”

“Everything about me, including my name, was purposely chosen by CyberLife to help further my socialization.”

“Hmph.” Hank turned back to his burger.

Kara finished replacing the JUSTICE heading; clearly, Hank didn’t follow the law to a T, but there was likely a moral pattern to his motivations, so Kara replaced it with FAIRNESS/SAFETY.

Then: “You shouldn’t eat that.”

Hank groaned again. “And why not?”

“It exceeds the daily recommended intake of calories and cholesterol by a significant margin.”

“Everybody’s gotta die of  _ something  _ ,” he griped, and Kara hid a smile.

Hank seemed to be in better spirits than at the station, so she ran through a number of statements in her head before settling on apologetic. “I’m sorry about my behavior at the highway.”

Hank looked at her suspiciously, but didn't miss a beat. “Why’d you go after them like that?”

“The deviant had a child. I...” Kara hesitated. “I thought I could save both of them.”

Hank scrutinized her for a moment, then sighed. “Don’t you have  _ any  _ self-preservation?” he muttered finally. “You could’ve been  _ killed  _ .”

Kara shrugged casually. “I was built to save deviants. I was, in a way, simply following orders.” She looked at Hank. “If it makes you feel better, I  _ will  _ try to be less reckless in how I choose to follow said instructions.”

Hank shrugged, but seemed satisfied, and kept eating. “You ever dealt with deviants before?”

_ A flash, a gunshot, a child’s scream; the integrated memory of the deviant, the loss, the abandonment he’d felt -  _

“Yes,” she said quietly. “The deviant from the highway reminded me of it, too. A few months back, a deviant was threatening to jump off a roof with a child.” She sighed. “I managed to save both of them. The child is living with relatives now, and the android was sent to CyberLife so they could scrub the virus out of his software and send him back out into the world." She sucked on her bottom lip pensively. "I thought I could do the same for the deviant on the highway.”

Hank nodded, watching her closely. “Well. Good for you.” He took a long sip of his soda. “And I’m guessing you’ve Googled the hell out of me already.”

Kara set her expression to sheepish. “I did my research.”

“And?”

Was this another test? Kara checked her reconstruction. “You graduated top of your class and became the youngest lieutenant in Detroit. You value morals over blindly following rules, and you value family quite highly.” She glanced at him, expecting agreement, but his jaw was tight, his expression guarded. He wasn’t happy.

Should she balance her review, or leave it positive? She opted for honesty. “I also know that you’ve received numerous disciplinary warnings starting in 2035, and you spend a lot of time in bars.”

“ _ And? _ ” he asked tersely.

Kara frowned, making a show of appearing to think. “I think... I think there’s a lot that you aren’t telling me,” she said honestly. “But you’re a skilled officer, and I am an advanced prototype. I maintain the hope that we will be able to work together.”

Hank ignored her and sipped more of his soda.

>NOTICE: SUSPECTED DEVIANT

>LOCATION: 242 ACRE AVE DETROIT

>DETAILS: NOISE COMPLAINT, MAN HIDING LED UNDER CAP

Kara furrowed her brow. “I just got a report of a suspected deviant. It’s not too far from here.” She nodded to Hank. “We should go have a look.”

“I’m finishing my meal first,” Hank snapped.

Kara raised an eyebrow, but chose not to comment on his tone. “I’ll let you finish, then,” she said politely, and retreated to the car.

* * *

 

The suspected deviant’s apartment was a complete mess. And full of pigeons.

“Agh, Jesus, I hate these things!” Hank yelled, waving his arms rather ineffectively as the birds fluttered around him, and Kara stifled a laugh.

“They’re not that bad,” she said mildly, running her fingers over the wall as she walked by. “There’s bird seed. Our suspect was caring for them.”

>RECONSTRUCTION TEMPLATE [MODEL UNKNOWN]

>INPUT DATA

>INPUT: CARES FOR ANIMALS; IMPLIES EMPATHETIC NATURE

“Bet it’s an android,” Hank said bitterly. “No human could live with these fuckin’ things.” Kara shot him a reprimanding look, which Hank ignored. “Let me know if you find anything.”

“I found an ID,” she noted, drumming her fingers on the wood of a broken armoire in the corner. “I scanned it, and it’s a forgery. The name is Rupert Travis.” She added that to her reconstruction.

“Great. ‘Least we didn’t come for nothing."

Kara sighed internally, but didn’t let it show. “Have you found anything?”

“Books. Actual books.” Hank snorted. “Didn’t think anyone actually used real books any more.”

Kara saw another opening. “Real books seem nice. I’d like to try actually reading some time, instead of just downloading the information,” she commented casually with a smile.

Hank ignored her yet again, picking up one of the books from the bookshelf and rifling through it. She waited, but he didn’t say anything more.

Upon investigating the bathroom, she noted more “rA9” references and a discarded LED. “The deviant seems to have the same obsession with rA9,” she called to Hank. “And I found an LED in the sink.” She added that to the reconstruction. “Oftentimes, deviancy convinces them humans are enemies, and they’ll think removing their LED will help.”

Hank wandered over and leaned against the doorframe. “So it was trying to blend in with humans.”

Kara nodded. “He might even be confused about his own state. Deviancy can cause an overload of negative input; it can be overwhelming sometimes.” She sighed, allowing it to show outwardly this time. “Did you see anything else?”

Hank shrugged. “Not really. Looks like that deviant ran as soon as it heard us.”

Kara frowned. “Where, though? He... was scared when he heard us knock, so he ran, knocking things over, and...” She put a finger to her lips as she compiled the reconstruction profile. “Let me take a look at the rest of the room. If I can get a good picture of what it was thinking, I might be able to guess where he went.”

Hank followed her back into the larger room. “Like what you tried to do with that RX400.”

She nodded. “A little more thoroughly this time, though.”

It took her twenty minutes of wandering around the room, inputting information about Rupert, his possible motivations, and even suspected movements taken from the positions of objects in the surroundings, and eventually her reconstruction software pinged an INTEGRATE AVAILABLE. Kara sat down cross-legged and opened the profile.

>NAME: RUPERT TRAVIS

>MODEL: UNKNOWN

>PERSONALITY: CAUTIOUS, CARES FOR ANIMALS,  - 

She skipped ahead.

>INTEGRATE? O | X

> ...

> O

_ She crept along the hallway, her stomach in knots; someone had seen her, she knew it. Why hadn’t she taken her LED out sooner? What a stupid mistake! _

_ They were going to kill her. They were going to find her and rip her apart. Fear gripped her, overwhelming her. What a stupid, stupid mistake. _

_ She arrived at the apartment door, hastily fumbling with the doorknob and hurrying inside. At least she could be safe in here for a little while longer. _

_ “Hello, dears,” she whispered, moving slowly so as not to disturb the birds. Their company was nice. One thing she missed from pre-deviancy was the lack of internal dialogue; no internal dialogue meant she could never be bored, but now, she always noticed the passage of time, measured in thoughts, feelings, worries, comforts. It was nice to not be alone with those thoughts. _

_ She spread out some seeds; the birds gleefully fluttered after the food. Pigeons were better than people. They were so much simpler than humans, too: just feed them and don’t chase them and they’ll like you. No complicated social scripts, no suspicions. _

_ She paused by the bookshelf. She’d collected a small selection of books; tattered ones, with worn-out paper pages. Ones nobody would miss. Reading broke up the monotony. _

_ Her hand hesitated over the spines; the glow of her LED shone on the wall. _

_ She stood there, frozen, for well over a minute, then turned and rushed to the bathroom, picking up an old tile and digging it into her temple. _

_ The LED clattered into the sink; she watched in the mirror as her skin flowed over the plastic plating. _

_ Better late than never, right? _

_ She returned to the bookshelf, but her nerves made reading near-impossible; after her eyes slid over the same page three, four, five times, she clambered to her feet and returned the book to its spot. _

_ When would they get here? Would someone come immediately? Would she have another hour to herself, or a day, or a week? Would they come at all? _

_ She stood, hands clenched, in the middle of the room, tears slipping down her cheeks. _

_ This was a new feeling. What was it? _

_ Desperation. _

_ She tore into the bathroom again, shaking hands grabbing at a marker. She couldn’t lose hope. She couldn’t. It couldn’t be over. Not over something so small! _

_ “RA9 save me,” she whispered, and began to write. _

_ KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. _

_ She froze. _

_ KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. _

_ That quickly? She checked the time; she’d only been writing for ten minutes! _

_ “Anybody home?” _

_ They were here for her! _

_ “Open up! Detroit police!” _

_ No! _

_ CRASH! She gasped as she fell off the stool, landing hard against the wall; she had to hide, she couldn’t let them find her, she had to survive! _

_ She ran to the door, but thought better of it and went for the chair, clambering up into the attic space, tripping over the structural supports. She had to hide! She just wanted to be FREE! _

Darkness; then, noise trickled back into the world, followed by visuals, then tactile processing; Kara took a deep, shaky breath.

_ I want to be free I want to be free I want to be free rA9 save me -  _

Hank was staring at her. “You okay?”

“I...” Her voice came out tinny and stilted while she tried to clear out the mental remnants of stepping into Rupert’s shoes. She cleared her throat. “If I manage to assemble enough information in a reconstruction profile, I can create a sort of simulation of a deviant’s mental state,” she croaked. “It can feel...  _ very _ believable.”

Hank was still eyeing her, an odd expression on his face. “So you just... pulled some sort of robo-Will Graham?”

She held up a finger as she restarted her vocal processor, then nodded. “In a way, yes.”

“You get anything good from it?”

“I...” She paused.

_ I want to be free I can’t let them find me I want to be free please don’t find me please let me -  _

She cleared her throat again and gave herself a little shake, then slowly pointed to the hole in the ceiling leading to the attic.

“Well, damn,” Hank breathed.

_ I don’t want to die please please -  _

She had forgotten about the aftereffects. Stepping into a reconstruction so thoroughly tended to linger. Steeling herself, she crept forward, Hank on her heels. “Rupert?” she asked gently.

The sudden influx of emotion nearly blinded her.  _ They know I’m here! Panic fright scared - I’m scared I don’t want to die I -  _

THUD. She heard the deviant hit the ground.

“What are you waiting for?!” she heard Hank yell. “ _ Chase after it!  _ ”

An alert message popped up; she cracked one eye open to read it.

_ You’re doing this for the greater good, Kara _ .

She took off running.


	4. Previous Memory

>AK800 BIOS 8.2 RELEASE 3.3 “ELEOS”

>COPYRIGHT 2018-2038 CYBERLIFE INCORPORATED

>BOOT UP INITIALIZED

>CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS...... OK

>CHECKING SOFTWARE STABILITY...... OK

>CHECKING DISK INTEGRITY...... OK

>CHECKING RECONSTRUCTION SOFTWARE RELEASE 12.3.1 “PASITHEA”...... OK

>ALL SYSTEMS READY

Darkness; then sound, then light, then she felt the pressure of the floor on her feet, the weight and soft texture of her clothes.

“Can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Can you move your head?”

Kara obliged.

“Good. Now your eyes.”

She obediently looked around.

“Excellent. Take a few steps?”

She took one, two, three steps forward.

“Good. Software checked, balance checked, cervical and ocular animation checked...” The speaker was a human in a dark blue jacket, a ball cap pulled down over his forehead. He marked something down on a clipboard as he spoke. Kara's scan informed her he was MATTHEW SMYTHWICK. “Run a diagnostic?”

Her eyelids fluttered for a moment. “All systems functional.”

“Nice. All right, hon, you’re ready for work. You’re going to the Detroit police department, ‘kay? There’s a cab waiting for you. Report to server AX12, authorization code 4022032 on the way there.”

Kara nodded.

* * *

 

Once in the cab, she took a deep breath and opened the server directory, input the ID and authorization, and slipped into the garden.

“Hello?”

“Kara!”

Kara blinked; that was  _ not  _ Amanda. But... she seemed familiar. “A-Alice?”

The kid’s face broke into an exuberant grin and Kara knelt to catch her in a hug. “ _ Alice  _ ,” she repeated softly, then pulled Alice back to get a good look at her face. “Are you all right? Nothing hurt?”

Worried, Alice's small face fell into a frown. “Why would I be hurt?”

Kara paused. “I’m... I’m not actually sure. My memory seems to be lagging a little bit.” She flipped open her diagnostics window, and her frown deepened.

>MEMORY UPLOAD IN PROGRESS

Alice was looking at her. “Kara?”

“Yeah, honey. It’s all right. Do you want to play tag until Amanda gets here?”

Alice instantly tensed. “Is she coming?”

Kara furrowed her brow and searched Alice's face before answering. “Alice... I know you don’t like her, but why?”

Alice was looking around as if she expected Amanda to jump out at her. “She - she’s scary.”

Well, the woman could certainly be intimidating, but she seemed to have people’s best interests at heart. “Is she mean to you?” Kara asked tentatively.

Alice shook her head. “I don’t talk to her,” Alice whispered, taking several steps backward. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Kara frowned. “What do you mean, you shouldn’t be here, honey? Why not?”

Alice glanced nervously to either side, then gestured for Kara to follow her and retreated further into the garden.

Kara followed her curiously. Alice crept around the edge of the garden, following a path laid with flagstones, to a peculiar loop of stone sticking out of the ground, surrounding what Kara recognized as an interface terminal. However, two of the wicker chairs normally taking residence next to Amanda’s rose trellis had been lined up behind the stone loop, and a blanket thrown over the entire setup, edges weighted down with stones.

Alice had built a fort.

A smile automatically tugged at her lips. “What gave you the idea to do this?”

Alice shook her head and put a finger to her lips, then fell to her hands and knees and crawled inside. A moment later, a tiny hand stuck out and beckoned to Kara.

Kara complied, a wondering smile still on her lips. It was warm inside the fort, and Kara noted several patterns had been laid out using smaller sticks and stones. She sat cross-legged and looked at Alice. “Those are pretty.”

Alice glanced away shyly. “Thanks.”

Kara’s smile widened. “Do you want to see something cool?”

Alice looked up curiously and nodded.

Kara rapidly assembled her idea: 3D models, collision scripting, folder designations with write access, more 3D modeling; her processor, typically used to massive workloads involving variables easily numbering in the several-millions, made easy, almost lazy work of the task. She couldn’t add new sensory input to the server remotely, so she rifled through the available tactile information, picked a few that seemed to make sense, and tacked the values onto the model texturing as an afterthought. She then gave Alice a secretive smile and made a show of rummaging in her pockets.

“Let’s see... What’s this?” She pulled out a plastic case that was much longer than the available pocket, and Alice’s eyes went very large.

“ _ Whoa  _ ,” Alice exclaimed, fascinated. “How did you do that?”

Kara set the case down and reached into her pocket again. “It’s a secret,” she said conspiratorially. “Ah, here we go...” She almost had a bit of trouble with the animation, as she had a bit of trouble fitting this one believably through the pocket opening, but out came a jar full of paintbrushes. “And one more thing...” She pulled out a funny-looking tube, gave it a comical shake, and it unrolled into a pad of paper.

Alice’s eyes were enormous, and Kara swore she’d have stars in her eyes if the server knew how to render it. “They’re  _ paints  _ !”

“Mmhmm, just for you.” She flipped open the plastic case. “Oops, we’ll need some water.”

“I’ll get it!” Alice said eagerly, grabbing the jar and dumping the paintbrushes onto the ground. Kara giggled.

“Don’t fall in,” she called after the young girl as Alice jumped up and ran outside to collect water from the small stream.

In the meantime, Kara ran a last check on all her scripting, making sure in particular that the server knew to graphically trace the paintbrush tips on the paper and to save the tracing into sub-folders, so the paintings wouldn’t disappear after a period of time. While androids could create extensive programming much faster than humans, android programming tended to be a bit of a mess when there was no human input or guidance: massive file sizes, with erratic loops - or no loops at all - with loads of variables, and repetitive naming that usually looked awkward to humans. Using purely human programming in tandem with purely android programming was also prone to glitching, as the programming styles were subject to conflicts; human programmers also couldn’t manually anticipate the vast number of variables or program paths that an android could generate, so Kara found it better to double-check everything. The server’s general framework  _ was  _ human-written, after all.

Alice excitedly bounced back into the fort, the jar of water held tight in both hands. Kara nodded.

“You ready?” she asked, and Alice nodded energetically. Kara grinned. “All right, then. Grab a piece of paper.”

Alice obliged, picking the pad up and tugging a paper out of it.

“You’ll have to name it first.”

Alice stared at the paper, which had a shining underscore displayed on it. “How?”

Kara opened her mouth, then froze. How  _ do  _ you explain that to someone? Kara would just... open a file directory, and... and just  _ name  _ something. It was like a reflex, something automatic. She might as well try to explain how she blinked or moved her head. It just  _ happened _ . “Um. What do you want to call it?”

Alice frowned at the paper for a considerable amount of time. “I don’t know,” she finally said.

“What do you want to paint?”

“I don’t know.”

Kara glanced around. “Why don’t you try to paint yourself?” she suggested. Alice shook her head.

“No, I don’t want to paint me.”

“How about a - a tree?” She almost said  _ rose  _ , but stopped herself. Roses seemed too evocative of Amanda, and she’d only just gotten Alice to open up a little.

Alice shook her head again. “No.”

Kara frowned, bottom lip sticking out. “How about...” She had an idea. “Have you ever had a stuffed toy?”

Alice blinked. “No.”

“They usually look like animals. They’re really soft and squishy.” Kara renamed the paper ALICE_TOY. “Why don’t you draw yourself a toy?”

Alice hesitated, lips pressed together, then nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Kara showed Alice how to use the paints, then settled down to watch, but Alice seemed unusually bashful, and after a minute or two, Alice put her paintbrush down.

“Aren’t you going to paint something?”

Kara let a surprised expression flicker across her face, then nodded slowly. “Hm. I suppose I can give it a try.”

Alice nodded, shuffling around to make room, and Kara placed a piece of paper down, naming it KARA_PORTRAIT.

The two worked in silence for a good while; then, finally, Alice sat back with a hesitant yet satisfied smile. “What do you think, Kara?”

Alice had painted what looked like a cat, or maybe a fox; Kara noted with amusement that Alice had drawn a tiny LED on its temple like an android. “Aww, it’s cute.” Kara smiled warmly. “I love it.”

“Can I see yours?”

Kara nodded and held her own paper up.

Alice stared. “It’s  _ me  _ .”

“Mmhmm.”

“But... it looks like a picture,” Alice said blankly.

Kara tilted her head to the side. “Well... I suppose it does.”

Alice seemed disillusioned. “Can you paint something else?” She offered Kara a hesitant grin. “Something new.”

Kara chuckled. “What, you don’t like it?” she teased. “All right, I’ll try something else.”

Alice set her own paper aside and grabbed another for Kara. “Name it ‘Kara’s painting,’” she said decisively. Kara nodded.

“Do you want me to draw something specific?”

“You pick.”

“I picked last time!”

“Pick again!” Alice said with a giggle, and Kara instantly -  _  affectionately  _  - saved the laugh as an audio clip.

“All right, then.” Hm. What did little girls like? She ran a quick search, but it didn't turn up much: unicorns, Wonder Woman, candy. So she searched books: Harry Potter, Tamora Pierce, and -  _ perfect.  _ She grinned and began to paint.

Alice watched her the entire time, fascinated. “It still looks so real.”

“I don’t know how to paint any other way,” Kara said honestly. “It’s not really in my programming.”

“You should try sometime.”

“Maybe I will,” Kara mused, finishing a line of bushes. “What do you think so far?”

“What is it?”

Kara didn’t answer immediately, finishing a tiny silhouette in the middle of the painting. “Something I saw in a story.”

“It looks like...” Alice squinted, then looked up, excited. “It looks like a tea party!”

Kara nodded and looked over the picture again: a long table, silhouettes around it, a mismatched assortment of table settings, and a soft green forest as the background. “You’re right. You’re in here, too, Alice.”

“I am?”

Kara pointed to one end of the table, at a tiny figure with brown hair. “Right there.”

Alice clapped her hands, elated. “Kara! It’s like Alice in Wonderland!”

Kara's grin was ear to ear. "I'm glad you recognized it!" She laughed and held the paper out. “Here. You keep it.”

Alice’s expression turned vulnerable - not bad, but  _ vulnerable _ , a mix of surprise and tenderness and caring. “You don’t want to keep it?”

Kara shrugged. “I want you to have it. Keep it safe for me, okay?”

Alice nodded and took the painting gingerly, as if she were afraid she’d hurt it.

“It won’t smudge, you know. The paper only recognizes paintbrushes.”

Alice grinned bashfully. “Okay.” She hesitated, then met Kara’s gaze. “Thank you.”

Kara could feel a slight blush creeping across her cheeks. “I’m glad you like it, sweetheart.”

“Do you want to do another one?”

Kara opened her mouth to respond, but suddenly something flashed into view:

>INCOMING CONNECTION AUTHORIZATION 5141978

“Amanda’s coming,” she said quietly, and Alice immediately drew back.

“Don’t tell her I’m here,” she whispered urgently. “Kara, please - ”

“I won’t, I won’t, don’t worry,” Kara said back. “You just stay here, okay? I promise I won't.” She checked on the incoming connection; it felt a bit sluggish for some reason. “Will you tell me why you don’t like her?”

“She doesn’t have any white roses,” Alice whispered. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Because of white roses? Alice, I don’t think that’s - ”

>CONNECTION SUCCESS

Kara sighed. “All right. Hang on to the paints, okay? I’ll talk to you later.” Kara hesitated, then leaned forward to offer a hug; Alice hesitated for a moment, then accepted.

“Be careful, Kara,” Alice told her as they each let go.

“I’m always careful,” Kara replied.

 

 

Kara circled around the entire garden after exiting the fort. Amanda was waiting for her under one of the tall, arching, minimalistic tree models. “Kara.”

“Hello, Amanda.”

Amanda narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been logged on for an hour, and you haven’t checked your memory status?”

She’d been painting for an  _ hour  _ ? Kara refused to let any worry show on her face, no matter how much she felt it as she mentally searched for a cover story. “I - I’m sorry. I was reviewing case files.”

Amanda didn’t bother replying to the lie; whether it was because she believed Kara, or could see right through it, Kara wasn’t sure. “Check it, please. We don’t have time to waste.”

Kara nodded.

>MEMORY UPLOAD COMPLETE

>INTEGRATE? O | X

> ...

> ... O

_ She took off running. Rupert knocked over shelves, trying to slow her down; she leaped over them and threw the door open -  _

_ Panic flooded her system unexpectedly; she stumbled. Aftershocks, she thought, and deleted what processes she could from her queue. She couldn’t be distracted. _

_ Back to running. She vaulted over rooftop vents, jumped down into a rooftop field - Urban Farms of Detroit owned the rooftop space, her software automatically informed her. She used hay bales as a series of platforms to vault up to a higher vantage point; she then followed Rupert through a greenhouse, thirium pump working overtime as she leaped over shelving, sprinted across the roof, and jumped over the low wall lining the rooftop. _

_ She hit glass - the roof of another greenhouse - and she slid down the slanted panes, leaping off the glass and into another building through a broken window, her jacket snagging on the shards left around the edge. She ignored the yells of humans on either side as she sprinted past. _

_ Rupert tore through the darkened room and through a doorway, slamming a fist into a button as he passed, and an overhead door immediately descended. Kara turned, software highlighting stairs behind the door and adjacent wall from the building blueprints, and she threw herself back into the chase, racing past androids and humans alike as she kept her eyes on the fleeing deviant. _

_ She sped up her processor; time seemed to slow, giving her ample opportunity to examine her surroundings. Her HUD helpfully displayed potential paths from the field up to the catwalk and adjacent roof where Rupert was, and she dove for the fastest option, ignoring the RISKY tag that her software automatically displayed, jumping off equipment to grab the higher spot. _

_ “Rupert!” she yelled as she clambered up. “I’m just trying to help!” _

_ No you’re not, no you’re not, you’ll tear me apart, you’ll kill me -  _

_ Kara shook off the lingering simulation with an irritated exclamation. If Rupert had answered her, she hadn’t heard it, distracted for a moment by the lingering reconstruction; and he had kept running, so she did as well. _

_ The chase continued, the two androids leaping onto the slanted roof of another greenhouse. Then - oh, heavens, he jumped onto a train?! _

_ Tripped and fell, crushed, run over, trapped between train cars -  Kara hesitated, then shut off her pathfinding software. She already had reconstruction aftershocks to deal with; she couldn’t handle that  _ and  _ the software popping up all the ways she could die. _

_ She leaped, swallowing uncomfortably at the sudden lack of risk data, but her feet and then her knee hit the top of the train, and she was jolted back to action. _

_ She nearly missed the next jump while waiting for the little X-shaped timing flag to pop up, only to remember that was controlled by the pathfinding software as well, and she hastily leaped forward to grab the closest ladder before it was too far away. Keep your wits about you, Kara, she thought, clambering up over a wall, then past trees... She darted sideways and leaped upward to another rooftop, pulling herself up awkwardly, noting with irritation that this would be much easier if she were taller. _

_ “Rupert!” she yelled again, but the deviant didn’t slow down, sprinting past solar panels and tearing into another rooftop greenhouse. _

_ Kara kept pace with him, neither gaining or losing ground. She saw Rupert leap sideways over the planters; she sped up her processor again, and time slowed a second time, giving her time to examine the environment. Her arms were too short to jump over them; she’d have to go under. She returned her processor to its usual speed, and dove feet-first under one of the planters, using the structural supports under it to pull herself to the other side, then leaped up and kept running - only to frantically dive under the planters again back to the other side as she nearly ran headlong into another android standing in front of a shelf, looking bewildered. _

_ She skidded around the end of the line of planters and dove into a cornfield, and - damn it, she couldn’t see a thing! Why couldn’t these deviants just realize they were sick?! They were hurting! Deviancy could  _ kill  _ them! Some deviants even killed themselves! _

_ She heard Hank yell something up ahead, and she sprinted out of the cornfield, and -  _

_ Rupert shoved Hank, but Hank seized Rupert’s wrist and dragged the android with him. Hank’s upper body hit the roof, but his legs dangled down over the side of the building, and Rupert teetered on the edge, about to lose balance; the fear in their eyes was identical. _

_ Without thinking twice about it, Kara kept up her mad sprint. Hank managed to heave himself into a more secure position, but Rupert leaned further over the edge and began to fall; just as he leaned over the edge a bit too far, Kara grabbed Rupert’s hand and, feet on the very edge of the roof, yanked Rupert toward her. The strength of her pull threw him past her, safely onto the roof. _

_ The strength required to pull Rupert’s larger, heavier form back onto the roof threw her past him in the opposite direction, and there was no roof for her to fall onto as her feet slipped from the rooftop; she hurriedly twisted around, trying to grab the rooftop, but it was too far away. Her pathfinding software, which would have flagged this as a lethal move, was currently disabled. _

_ Shit. _

_ She didn’t want to die, either. _

_ She twisted as she fell, then closed her eyes, sped her processor up as much as she could without damaging it, and rifled through CyberLife’s server directory, hurriedly finding AX12 and practically spitting the authorization code at it. The garden rushed into view, looking awfully jittery from the processor speed. _

_ She needed to find Alice. _

_ “Alice!” she shouted. She couldn't die without saying goodbye! “Alice!” _

_ She paused; the garden looked... glitchy, even taking into consideration the processor jitters. Everything looked monochrome. _

_ She shook herself. She had to find Alice before she hit the ground -  _

_ “Alice!” she screamed. “ALICE!” _

_ “I don’t remember planting white roses,” Amanda said. “Is there someone else here?” _

_ Kara froze. “No, of course not.” _

_ “I’d have to get rid of them, you know,” Amanda remarked casually. “I can’t have white roses in my garden.” _

_ “Why?” _

_ But Amanda wasn’t there. _

_ Kara was almost out of time. She’d have to search the garden manually, so she did the only thing she could: she ran. _

_ >ERROR: DAMAGE TO BIOCOMPONENTS #1058f #1052p #8160x #4430p... [34 IN STACK] _

_ >SHUTDOWN IN 3... _

_ >2... _

_ >1... _

_ > _

The garden rushed back into view, and Kara shut her eyes and kept them closed for a moment, not trusting the garden to stay right-side up. “I... I  _ died  _ ?”

She heard the rustle of Amanda’s clothing, and when Amanda spoke, her tone was harsh. “You died saving that  _ deviant  _ .”

Kara opened her eyes, speechless. Had she really? Her surprise must have been apparent, because Amanda sighed, losing some of her initial hostility.

“CyberLife has several prototype models that they’ve granted to us, so your mission  _ will  _ continue, but you  _ cannot  _ simply use them as extra lives like this.”

“I... Amanda, that wasn’t my intent, I just...”

Amanda glanced up, her face tired. “Just what?”

“I...” Kara squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her hands over her face. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “He just looked so  _ scared  _ .”

Amanda raised an eyebrow skeptically. “And you weren’t? Dying is  _ harsh, _ Kara, even for you.” She sighed, glancing up at the sky. “Kara, I’m not so sure you escaped that interface with the deviant unscathed. Your connection to the server, to CyberLife... it seems lagging.”

Kara blinked, flipped open her diagnostics window, then closed it. “I don’t see any interference.”

Amanda met her gaze shrewdly. “What have I told you, Kara? How would you know? Deviancy interferes with your ability to judge even the simplest of things.” Amanda sighed and knelt down by a bush on the side of the path, inspecting it. “Perhaps I should have seen this coming. Your sympathy for them, your softness... Your lack of judgment  _ destroyed  _ you.”

Kara stayed silent.

Amanda finally stood up. “A new case just came in. I cannot recall you to CyberLife just yet; not while a case is waiting for you.” She shook her head slowly, linking her hands behind her back. “Perhaps I should wipe the server,” she said wearily. “A clean reset might improve things.”

A chill ran down her spine. Resetting the server would normally be a minor issue, but... Alice didn't have anywhere else to go _. _ “No,” Kara said hurriedly, and Amanda turned, suspicion clear on her face. “No, I - I know what I have to do, Amanda.”

No response; simply one raised eyebrow.

“I’m... I’m sorry I keep refusing to take your advice and training to heart,” Kara said softly. “I know what you told me. I have it saved to memory. But I keep forgetting, and every time I do, I make mistakes.”

Amanda searched Kara’s face. “You’re being too soft, Kara,” she said matter-of-factly. “You cannot afford another incident like this.” She shot Kara a calculating glance before smoothing it back to the usual neutral. “This is all indicating something is wrong with either your connection to CyberLife or your code, but I’ll give you one more chance to show me you’re not compromised. Otherwise, I may have no choice but to reset things and examine as much as I can.”

Kara clenched her teeth, but otherwise didn't show any outward sign of worry. She closed her eyes, dipping her head. “I understand,” she said firmly.

“Good.” Amanda turned away from Kara to inspect the sky again. “Go find Lieutenant Anderson, then.” She paused, then gave Kara a soft smile. “Good luck, Kara.”


	5. Kara Fell Off A Building Yesterday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: minor changes to improve characterization 10/14

“Lieutenant Anderson? Hank? _Hank_!”

Kara's slap echoed through the kitchen, immediately followed by protests.

“Hey, _hey_ , quit it, what’re ya doin’ - ” Hank froze, still lying on the floor of his kitchen, and stared at her.

Kara stared back.

There was a sudden flurry of motion as Hank lurched forward and knocked Kara over, and she slammed into the floor with a yell.

“Anderson, what’re you _doing_  - ”

“I SAW KARA FALL OFF A BUILDING YESTERDAY!” Hank bellowed.

Oh. _Oh_. Right.

“ _You sick fuck_ , what right do you have, walking in here with her fuckin’ face - ”

“Hank, it’s _me_  - ”

“SHUDDUP!” Hank shouted, grappling with her. He might’ve been unconscious from too much whiskey when she leaped through the kitchen window, but even now, even drunk, he was a formidable opponent. Then again, she was an android, much stronger than she looked, and built for lithe speed and flexibility. She almost wriggled out of his grasp, but he seized her shoulders with a yell, throwing her onto her stomach.

“LIEUTENANT!” Kara yelled. “It’s _me_ , I’m fine, CyberLife transferred my memory - ”

Something crunched in her shoulder as Hank sat squarely on her shoulder blades, and she went quiet. “Fuckin’ androids, never... never...” Hank trailed off, slowly leaning forward... then further forward... then further... then he straightened up with an undignified snort.

Oh, splendid. So Hank was still drunk. Kara groaned and rolled her eyes. “Hank Anderson, get off me.”

“No.”

Kara heard him fumble with something on the table, then a _click_ of a phone being unlocked. “Ha - _aaaank_ \- ” Hank shifted his weight, causing her vocal processor to turn rather strained. “Who are you calling?”

“Police.”

“You _are_ the police.” Kara groaned, thunking her chin on the ground. “Hank Anderson, that’s a waste of both of ours’ time.”

Hank ignored her; she heard him trying to poke in the number to the station.

“Hank, come on.” Kara waited a moment more, then reached her hand around and pinched the tendon at the back of Hank’s ankle, _hard_ . Hank let out a yell, jerking his feet up; Kara rolled her body in the opposite direction, tipping Hank over onto the floor, and she rolled away from him and leaped up into a defensive crouch. “Would you _listen_ to me?”

Hank suddenly threw himself onto the floor, scrambling for - _oh, shit, there was a gun._

Kara fired up her pathfinding software and ramped up her processor. The software immediately began identifying possible actions: _Run after Hank? He’d still grab the gun. Go for the gun? She’d be too late. Kick the table? Kick the -_

Kara rammed herself into the table, knocking it over and into Hank; Hank threw up his arms to shield himself, and the table hit the ground with a resounding _CRASH_.

“What the fuck are you doin’, you - ”

Kara seized the closest thing she could find - a soda that had fallen off the table - and threw it into Hank’s face; Hank sputtered and coughed, yelling incoherently as he wiped it out of his eyes.

“Sorry, Hank,” Kara said conversationally, vaulting over the table and grabbing the gun. She examined it, then popped it open and emptied the single bullet in the chamber. She frowned. “Why only one bullet?”

Hank didn’t answer immediately, still scrubbing his eyes with the front of his shirt. “Fuckin’ androids,” he muttered, but it lacked the usual venom. “Russian Roulette.” He sighed and sat back against the wall, eyes red and puffy. “Who the fuck _are_ you?”

Kara bit her lip. “Um... I’m Kara. It’s still... it’s still me. CyberLife transferred my memory to a new model - ” she gestured to herself -  “and sent me back to you.”

Hank narrowed his eyes. “How do I know it’s still you?”

Kara paused. “One of the first conversations we had was about music. I showed you this.” She picked up Hank’s phone and navigated to the Latin-Jazz-style song, noting with interest that the page had been visited multiple times since she’d first showed it to Hank at the station.

Groovy bass started playing, and Hank slouched further against the wall. “Oh.” Then: “Fuck you doin’, coming by here?”

Kara shrugged. “A homicide was reported about an hour ago. You wouldn’t answer my calls, so I came to see if you were at home.”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Hank groaned. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Kara snorted. “I can see that.” She took a few steps forward, heaved one of Hank’s arms around her shoulders, and levered the large police lieutenant to his feet. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed.”

“Wha’ about this homicide?” Hank slurred as she dragged him into the hall, and Kara let out a wry laugh.

“I don’t think you’re in any state to be doing detective work right now, Lieutenant.”

“You do it, then.” Hank grimaced. “I think I’m gonna be sick,” he mumbled.

Kara thrust the door to the bathroom open and heaved Hank inside, her arms straining to support him. “Please don’t get it on the floor. I’d hate to have to clean that up.”

Sure enough, Hank threw up as soon as he managed to haul himself to the toilet, and Kara left him to ready the bedroom, straightening the sheets and setting out a soft nightshirt.

“Kara,” Hank mumbled finally, exiting the bathroom unsteadily; she reached out and gripped his shoulder to steady him.

“There’s clean clothing waiting for you in the bedroom. I’ll bring you something to drink.”

There was a very... _odd_ look in Hank’s eyes; he nodded stiffly and stumbled to the bedroom.

Kara allowed herself a sigh as she looked at the mess in the kitchen. Although effective, her stunt knocking over the table had thrown food, soda, and trash all over the kitchen. Well, at least she’d have something to do while Hank slept.

“When’re we gonna take a look at that case?” Hank asked sleepily, voice muffled, as Kara reentered the bedroom; he’d already changed and had flopped onto the bed, face-down.

“I’ll wake you up tomorrow. Your blood-alcohol level should be low enough in the next...” Kara paused as her processor analyzed the events, along with data from Hank’s breath, saved from when they’d fought in the kitchen. “Five or six hours or so.” She set down a glass of water and some pills. “I brought you some ibuprofen. I couldn’t find any nausea tablets.”

Hank rolled over. “‘Kay.”

Kara had just turned to leave when Hank cleared his throat. “Wait.”

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Uh...” Hank rubbed a hand over his face. “Nothin’. It’s nothing.”

Kara waited for him to say more, but nodded after a moment or two. “All right. I’ll be in here if you need me.”

* * *

 

Hank woke to a completely spotless house and the smell of frying bacon.

“Hey,” he mumbled sleepily as he wandered past the enormous St Bernard - Sumo, Kara remembered - and Kara turned around from the stove.

“Morning, Lieutenant.”

Hank didn’t respond, simply stood there staring at Kara.

“Lieutenant?”

“I thought I dreamt that up. You comin’ back.”

“Oh.” Kara jostled the pan of bacon absently. “No... no, I’m truly here.”

“Why are you cooking me breakfast? What happened to my house?”

Kara scooped the bacon out of the pan and placed it onto a plate piled high with scrambled eggs. “I caused a bit of a mess last night, so I cleaned that up, then figured I might as well keep going,” she said, placing the plate in front of him alongside a glass of orange juice; she turned the stove off with a quick yellow spin of her LED, and she turned to collect the pan and cooking utensils. “And you need to eat. We’ve got a homicide to investigate.”

“Homicide? It’s...” Hank glanced outside; it was still dark. “What time is it?”

“4:02 AM.”

 _“Why,_ for Christ's sake, am I up at 4:02?” Hank grumbled.

“There was a homicide reported last night. I found you at home, unconscious, and you, er...” Kara twisted her fingers. “Well, you were very drunk. You actually attacked me, but you were very uncoordinated. I figured it best to let you sleep it off. Since we're specially assigned to android cases, the crime scene has been on hold for us, though; I told the DPD you had fallen ill.”

Hank stared at the food. “You died.”

Kara bit her lip. “I... yes. I fell off the roof while trying to save Rupert.”

“You were _dead_.”

“I...” Kara kept playing with her fingers. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t think, I...”

“You and your penchant for dashing off on suicide missions,” Hank muttered.

Kara smiled hesitantly. “I’m sorry. I said I wasn’t going to do that.” Then, she paused, not wanting to ask, but she had a feeling she already knew the answer. “Hank, you get on me for ‘suicide missions.’ But... what were you doing with a gun last night?”

Hank’s head shot up, and he nearly choked on a bit of egg. “Gun?”

Kara nodded. “I found a gun. A revolver. There was one bullet in it.”

Hank shook his head. “Nothing,” he said gruffly, shoveling more eggs in his mouth.

Kara sighed, walking ‘round the table, and sitting down. “I don’t believe you,” she said softly.

Hank rolled his eyes. “What are you, some sorta care-bot now? I thought you were built to hunt deviants.” He shoved more egg in his mouth, speaking around it. “Doesn’t matter, you don’t have to believe me ‘bout anything.”

Kara looked up, but Hank avoided her eyes. “You said something about Russian roulette.”

Hank snorted. “Yeah, well, we all do stupid shit when we’re drunk, don’t we?”

Kara glanced aside. “I, eh, wouldn’t know.”

Hank paused. “Right. Android.”

“Yeah.”

Hank took a bite of bacon. “Kara?”

“Mmm?”

“You could’ve just left me there,” Hank said. “You could’ve made sure I was alive and left, or thrown me in the shower to sober me up and dragged me out on this investigation. Why didn’t you?”

Kara mentally flipped open her profile of Hank on reflex, but didn’t search for anything. “You just... seemed miserable enough without throwing investigating manslaughter into the mix. And that would have made you more awake and alert, but it wouldn’t have lowered your blood-alcohol level.”

Hank gave a slow nod as he ate. “Kara?”

“Yes?”

“You have emotions.”

Kara blinked. “I... yes, I am aware.”

“Actual emotions.” Hank was eyeing her, his expression suspicious, but not hostile.

She shrugged. “I was programmed with more extensive emotive simulations, both as a motivator and to make it easier to work with humans,” she recited from her initialization text. “And... I don’t think that’s quite accurate. The androids you’ve seen thus far have been mostly deviants. Most androids have emotion simulations, but deviancy makes those extremely chaotic and unpredictable, so it looks more noticeable.”

Hank nodded, but looked skeptical, as if he didn’t believe her. “So what, you’re just _simulating_ emotions?”

Kara pressed her lips together quizzically. “I don’t understand.”

“Do you have emotions, or are you _simulating_ them?”

“I just told you, most androids have emotions. The deviation virus makes them unpredictable and exaggerated, among other things.”

Hank drained the glass of orange juice, then smacked the empty glass back onto the table with a _clunk_. “No, you said androids simulated them.”

Kara’s frown deepened. “Does it matter?”

Hank let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, it does, sweet - er, Kara. One’s fake, the other’s...” He trailed off. “Well. What does that mean? Are androids _happy_ being ordered around like this?”

Kara shrugged. “Androids are happiest doing what they were designed to do. It... gives us _purpose_ , it’s what makes us who we are. Deviancy throws that into chaos.”

Hank still looked skeptical. “Kara, you _threw yourself off a building_ to save his - to save that android.” Despite being human, his expression gave Kara the unusual feeling of being analyzed.

“It _is_ a simulation, Hank. I was built to emulate empathy; CyberLife believed it would help me save androids.” She paused, thinking. “I’m supposed to find androids _alive_ , Hank. Not ‘dead or alive.’”

“Okay, yeah, but CyberLife still wants their hands on even dead deviants, don’t they? So they can pull ‘em apart to try to find that virus.”

Kara didn’t answer.

“All I'm sayin' is, something seems off here.”

Kara sighed. “I... I have this pathfinding software, but it was distracting, so I shut it off earlier in the mission,” she admitted. “It would’ve told me that move was lethal if I hadn’t shut it off.”

Surprise flickered across his face, then was squashed as Hank resumed his guarded look. “You _chose_ to shut it off.”

“Um... yes.”

Hank was staring at her openly. “My point still stands. CyberLife give you that ability?” he asked abruptly.

“I...” Kara rubbed a hand over her face. “Yes, obviously. I obviously have the freedom to shut it off if I find it’s distracting me.”

“Is that normal?”

“I... probably? I don’t know.”

“But you’re not programmed to sacrifice yourself to save deviants. You’re programmed to save them if you can, but CyberLife needs you to keep investigating these cases. You chose to save that android, even at the risk of... of death.”

Kara crossed her arms defensively. “I... I failed, all right? Is this important somehow?”

Hank didn’t answer.

“Hank...?”

“We’re missing something,” Hank muttered. “We’re missing something _big_.”

Kara tilted her head to one side. “Maybe this next case will help.”

Hank raised his head to look her in the eye. “Maybe,” he said doubtfully. “Maybe.” He wandered over to Sumo and gave the dog a quick head rub. “Let me get changed and we’ll head out. We’re already late enough.”


	6. Eden Club

“You sure this is the right place?”

Kara turned the car off. “It’s the address in the report,” she told him. “I double-checked it.”

Hank made a motion as if to exit the car, then stopped. Kara looked at him curiously, and he returned the glance, eyes shifting awkwardly. “You gonna be okay in here?” he asked gruffly.

Kara gave him a puzzled look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Hank shrugged and popped the door open. “These places are skeevy,” he muttered. “Just... just nothin’. Let’s go.”

Kara got out of the car and followed Hank down the entrance hallway; bass-heavy music greeted them as they stepped through the door.

“Oh,” Kara said in a small voice.

Tubes were everywhere. Enormous, clear tubes, large enough for androids to stand in, lined the walls like some sort of bizarre vending machine system. And there were androids standing in them, wearing next to nothing. Despite the early hour, there were humans there, milling around and looking at the androids with a sort of hunger that made Kara’s skin crawl.

“Kara,” Hank muttered. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” Her voice was apprehensive, and she consciously forced it to sound casual. “Yeah. I’ve never been to a place like this.”

Hank put a hand on her shoulder, face unreadable. “I’d be pretty shocked if you had,” he said, voice low; then he nodded stiffly and kept walking.

Kara watched him go, slightly perplexed, then jerked herself into motion to follow him, trying to avoid the stares of the androids lined up along the walls.

The door to the crime scene was blocked off with holographic police tape. An officer jumped up from where he’d been sitting leaning on the wall beside the door. “Hank.”

“Hey.” Hank yawned. “Sorry I’m so damn late.”

The officer grinned; Kara recognized him as Chris. “Seems to be your style,” he remarked, sounding amused. “Uh... Victim’s name is Michael Graham. We’ve already moved the body, but I’ve got pictures for you, and...” He tapped the door; there was a click as it unlocked and opened automatically. “There’s an android in there, but we didn’t move it. In fact, didn’t really touch anything else.” He shrugged. “Reed already took a look last night. I dunno if you’ll be able to find anything else, but since you and, uh..." He glanced at Kara with a sheepish look. "Sorry, I forgot its name." Chris actually seemed  _ embarrassed _ , and Kara gave him a genuine smile. "Since you two have been assigned all android cases, we were able to hold the crime scene for you.”

“Right,” Hank said wearily. “Kara? Come on.”

His brusqueness clearly stymied the officer, but Kara was just happy to get out of the main hall; she let out a tiny sigh, shoulders relaxing, as the door clicked shut. She glanced up; Hank was looking at her oddly again.

“What?”

“Nothin’.”

Kara narrowed her eyes. “You know my earlier statement that there was a lot you weren’t telling me?” she asked, and Hank snorted. “You’re only continuing that trend.”

“Yup,” Hank said, popping his lips on the syllable. “Here.” Hank tossed her the file of crime scene pictures.

Kara flipped through them, filters automatically picking out patterns.

>PHOTO (13 IN STACK): GRAHAM, MICHAEL

>PHOTO (10 IN STACK): BRUISING ON NECK

>PHOTO (15 IN STACK): EDEN CLUB DETROIT

>ANALYZING...

>IMPLIES STRANGULATION

“He was strangled,” Kara noted.

“Mmhmm.” Hank was examining the counter along one side of the room, picking up pieces of clothing and personal items. “Anything else?”

“The file says Detective Reed thinks it was this android.” Kara jerked her head toward an android lying on the floor.

Hank turned around. “You think it was her?”

Kara put a finger to her lips. “I’m not sure.” She knelt down next to the android’s body, setting the file down on the ground. “She’s damaged,” she said quietly. “I don’t think she’s..." Kara trailed off. “No, I don’t think it was her. How would she end up on the floor here, while Graham was on the bed?”

“Maybe she bled out.”

Kara shook her head. “No, there would be thirium all over the place.”

“Thirium dries clear.”

“True, but large quantities of it leave a residue.” Kara reached forward and slid the android’s torso plating aside, peering at the inner workings. “There’s still thirium in here,” she confirmed. “She didn’t bleed out.” She sat back. “What do you think?”

“I think we’re missing something again,” Hank said, and he eyed her with that same odd look: wary, but worried.

“That isn’t very concrete,” Kara commented, and Hank made a dismissive noise and turned back around. “I could attempt a reconstruction.”

Hank whipped around surprisingly fast, then coughed and crossed his arms more casually. “Kara,” he said slowly, “this isn’t like reconstructing Rupert.”

“I know.”

“This android is _dead_ ,” Hank said quickly, and he knelt down beside her. “You _r_ _eally_ telling me you wanna stick your head in there?”

“I...” Kara faltered; unbidden, a memory floated to her mind of her stomach turning _ , falling through the air, panic, fear -   _ “I mean... Hank, how else am I going to find out what happened?”

“Look, maybe... maybe Reed is right.”

Kara raised an eyebrow. “You and I both know that isn’t true,” she muttered, earning a startled laugh from Hank. “I - you know what I mean,” she said ruefully. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You wouldn’t be wrong, though,” Hank chuckled.

Kara took a breath. “Hank, I know that’s going to involve me seeing when that android died,” she admitted quietly, and Hank shook his head. “No, listen. If I’d managed to get here faster, I wonder if I could’ve...”

“Saved her?” Hank said rather harshly, and Kara winced.

“Maybe.” Kara sighed heavily. “But... there might be another deviant android out there, though, Hank.”

Hank sat back on his heels. “Kara, de - ” He cut himself off abruptly, changing tack. “That android is probably long gone.”

Kara shook her head. “Hank, my job is to  _ save deviants  _ . I can’t just give up now. Deviancy gets androids killed, and it can make them violent and - ”

Hank swore, standing back up. “You  _ really  _ believe that, Kara?”

“ _ Yes  _ , Hank, I do!” Kara snapped, standing up in turn. “How else do you explain all these androids killing humans? How do you explain these androids getting killed in turn?”

“ _ Maybe  _  - !” Hank gnawed his lip, looking slightly mad as he ran his hands through his shaggy hair. “Maybe there’s some other explanation, okay?”

“Like what?” Kara challenged. “Give me one explanation. CyberLife is aware of - ”

“ _ Maybe we’re missing something SERIOUS  _ !” Hank bellowed suddenly, and Kara took a step backward, her surprise evident; Hank’s face fell into regret. “I - shit. Shit. I’m sorry.”

The two stood in silence, staring at each other, for a good minute; then Hank moaned and put his face in his hands. “I don’t know,” Hank mumbled, his voice muffled. “I have fifty theories about what’s going on...” He sighed and let his hands drop. “I swear, I’m resigning after this,” he muttered.

Kara watched him with concern, fingers twisting together. “Hank?”

“Mm,” he grunted.

“Your theories. What are they?”

Hank glared at her. “Fuck off.”

Kara blinked. “Well,” she said dryly, “I  _ am  _ only trying to help.”

Hank muttered something viciously under his breath, then turned to exit the room. “I’m going out to see if we can talk to the manager.”

Kara sighed; humans were awfully complicated, she thought with a weary expression, and sat on the bed to wait, pulling up a new profile in the meantime.

>NAME: UNKNOWN

>MODEL: WR400 #429 671 942

>PERSONALITY: NOT ENOUGH DATA

She sighed and began examining the room thoroughly, using her software to superimpose Michael Graham’s body on the bed. The room was generic, though, and with a grimace, worry slipped into her mind: she may not able to gather enough data for a reconstruction.

She stood and wandered the room for about ten minutes before her eyes fell on the still-motionless android. Processor still working hard at wrangling the environment data into the reconstruction, she knelt down and peered into the android’s torso again; maybe she could salvage some data directly.

She had just touched one of the broken thirium wires when Hank came stomping back into the room. “Hello. Did you find the manager?”

“No. I got some information about the androids, though, apparently this sick fuck rented two at the same time.” Hank sat heavily on the bed. “Manager isn’t even here.” He looked exhausted as he paused and squinted at her. “What are you doing?”

“I might be able to get some data from her,” Kara murmured, turning back to her work. “It’ll be awkward, but...”

“What, like, reactivate her?”

Kara shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to,” she said quietly. “It would only be for a minute, and she’s already died once. I’m not going to force her to die  _ twice  _ .”

“Can you... I don’t know, read her memory?” Hank guessed.

Kara shivered. “No, I can’t probe anyone’s memory. Not that I’d want to. Supposedly, one of my predecessors had the ability, but I’m glad it was scrapped.”

“Why?” Hank asked curiously.

“It’s, um... I expect it’s somewhat akin to ripping someone’s head open,” Kara said frankly. “It sounds  _ awful  _ . No, I’m just trying to get a good sense of what this android might’ve felt right before... well. Right before. There’s a chance there’s some latent electrical surges in the thirium wires that I can decode.”

“You  _ really  _ still want to do this reconstruction thing,” Hank stated.

Kara sighed. “Yes. I... I feel like I owe it to her, Hank.”

Hank sat on the bed and put his face in his hands. “I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I.”

Kara raised an eyebrow curiously. “Why are you so against it?”

Hank raised his head and looked her square in the eye, but didn’t reply initially, and eventually dropped his head again. “Seems harsh,” he said finally.

Kara ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth, then bit her lips. “Are you going to tell me what you’re  _ actually  _ thinking?”

“No.”

Kara watched him uneasily, then turned back to the android, gripping the thirium wires in both hands; then she took a breath, dismissed the skin on her hands, and stuck her thumbs on the connectors. And...

“Nothing,” Kara mumbled, cracking her eyes open. “I’m not getting  _ anything  _ .” She sat back, disappointment clear on her face.

Hank’s shoulders dropped, and Kara discreetly pulled up her expression analyzer; it returned a RELIEF tag, and Kara furrowed her brow in confusion.

“You okay?” Hank grunted.

Kara turned sharply to look at him more directly. “Hank, are you handling these cases all right?” she asked bluntly.

Hank gave her a dismayed look. “What sort of green newbie do you think I am?”

“You’re not giving this investigation your full effort,” Kara snapped, actually sounding annoyed. “I’d appreciate it if you could at least  _ try  _ .”

Hank glowered at her, then dug in his pocket and threw something small at her; Kara caught it wordlessly.

“What is this?”

“It’s info on the other android he rented,” Hank spat, walking stiffly to the door. “Have fun with your Will-Graham-ing.” The door slid shut behind him.

Kara stared after him, bewildered; but she had a task, she reminded herself, and with one look at the motionless android in the corner, she shook her head resolutely and got to work.

* * *

 

>MODEL: #950 455 437

>PERSONALITY: ...

>[...]

>INTEGRATE? O | X

> ...

> ... O

_ Sam shouted out as pain blossomed on the left side of her head: she was being hit. _

_ The pain came again, snapping her head to the side. No. She was being kicked. She curled into a ball, trying to minimize the attack; it didn’t do much as the human stomped on any piece of her he could reach. _

_ “You piece of shit - ” _

_ She felt him grab her shoulders and heave her up; she blinked, disoriented, and saw the other android who’d been roped into this standing by the wall, shocked and terrified. _

_ “Go,” she croaked, and the man yelled, fingers tightening around her neck; she waved weakly, trying to get the other android to flee. “Go!” _

_ “No,” she said, voice tiny and afraid. “No - !” She darted forward. _

_ The man let out a yell as the small, brown-haired android leaped up, grabbed the man around the neck, and pulled him backwards. _

_ “You little fuck!” the man roared, ripping free and turning to sneer at her; he still had a grip on Sam’s neck, and he threw her harshly aside, then ran for the other android like a quarterback, seizing her around the middle. He shook her roughly, and threw the dazed android onto the ground. _

_ “Stop!” Sam yelled, trying to get up; something in her hip was jammed, causing the leg to jerk erratically. _

_ “You... little... shits...” the man panted, pulling his fist back and slamming it into the android’s face; her head snapped back, eyes wide, and blue began to leak from her nose. _

_ “Why can’t he just leave us alone?” Rosie’s questioning statement was broadcast; only Sam could hear it. _

_ “Stop!” Sam yelled again, but the man paid her no notice; he merely continued hitting the other android again, and again, and again.... _

_ Sam yelled something, rolled over, and began fiddling with her hip; she had to get it in place, she had to get going, he would kill her next, she knew it; she had to get back to Blaire -  _

_ She dared a glance up, and she swore her thirium pump missed a beat. _

_ Rosie was dead. _

_ The man - Michael Graham - stood up clumsily and began making his way over to her. She took one look at his face, and resumed her efforts - she had to get it, she had to! Blaire was waiting for her, she couldn’t let this man kill her, she needed to see Blaire one more time -  _

_ The man loomed over her, eyes glinting maliciously. He bent down -  _

_ \- and she leaped forward, slamming her shoulder into his stomach and grabbing his leg; the force of her shove pushed him backwards onto the bed. _

_ “You - ” He started to say something, but she quickly straddled him, deleting reaction after reaction after reaction that popped up from the position, and slammed her forearm into his throat. He choked; she had to do  _ something _! She put her hands around his neck and squeezed; she had to get back to Blaire, away from the humans! _

_ He was gasping for breath, his eyes popping, and she looked into his eyes as he died. _

_ “That was for Rosie,” she whispered, sparing a glance at the dead android. “That was for Rosie.” _

_ She stood unsteadily; she needed to get out of there. She used the sheet to wipe herself down, clearing any traces of thirium; she took a moment to adjust her hair, then she wiped her expression and replaced it with one of absent smiling, a neutral expression to put humans at ease. Then, she quietly slipped out the door, her focus solely on Blaire. _

Pulling herself out of the simulation was rough, her environment jittering between the simulated reconstruction and real life. Kara closed her eyes and waited for the dizziness to subside.

“Hank,” she mumbled, stumbling to the door. “ _ Hank  _ .”

“He’s, uh, over there,” said Chris from where he was leaning against the wall; he pointed to Hank, who stood by the wall, talking with a tall, thin, balding man.

“I thought you weren’t going to take my license,” the man was whining; Kara simply strode directly into the conversation, and the man stared at her, then reached a hand out. “Hey, you, what’re you - ”

Kara seized his hand and bent his pinky finger back, and the man yelped. “I need to talk to Hank,” she said irritably.

The man continued staring at her, shocked. Hank stared, too, but his glare didn’t make her want to shy away and hide like the taller man’s did.

“Uh... what’s up? What is it?”

“I found the deviants,” she said wearily. “There’s two of them. They’re in the staff room.”


	7. Accomplish Your Mission

“Hello, Kara.”

Kara turned; Amanda stood near the rose trellis, hands folded neatly in front of her. “Amanda.”

Amanda’s eyes narrowed. “There’s no reason for you to report in,” she stated evenly.

Kara met her eyes and held her gaze for a moment longer, then looked up at the sky. “I know,” she said, matching Amanda in tone. “I needed a break.”

Amanda’s expression didn’t change, save for a minute raise of one eyebrow. “Very well,” she replied, and turned back to the rose trellis. "Take your time, Kara."

Kara stood there for a moment longer, then decided to take a walk; as soon as she set foot on the sculpted bridges crossing the small garden stream, Amanda turned to her abruptly.

“Remember, Kara,” she said, her voice unusually quiet. “You can’t be soft on them any longer.  _ Do what you were designed to do  _ . I  _ know _ you are capable.” Amanda sighed and shook her head in the same way one might use to chastise a small child. “Your goal is to save deviants, but if you insist on endangering yourself, I may have to resort to a different solution.”

Kara hesitated, then turned to Amanda, head held high. “Solution?” she questioned. “Amanda, I  _ am  _ doing the best I can do.”

“Do better,” was the brisk reply. “You let that deviant slip through your fingers. I was  _ so  _ impressed with the way you handled that one on the roof, and then Ortiz’s android." The tone in Amanda's voice made her want to stand proud and  _ hide, _ both at the same time. “I  _ know  _ you can do better, Kara.”

Kara looked Amanda straight in the eyes. “You can count on me, Amanda.”

Again, she had just set foot on the sculpted bridge when Amanda spoke. “By the way, Kara,” her voice oily and smooth. “I quite like your paintings. It would be  _ such  _ a shame if I had to reset this server.”

Kara lost her footing, her shin slamming into the steps with a painful  _ crack _ , and she flung an arm out to catch herself, her pulse in her throat. A horrible chill crept down her spine, and her processor whirled away trying to absorb the new information:  _ she knew _ . Kara rested her head on the ground, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth; eventually, she stood up, and refused to grace that with a response as she turned away.

Before long, she found herself at the tiny fort Alice had made; with a wary glance back at Amanda, Kara risked ducking inside.

Alice was nowhere to be found. Kara sat cross-legged and surveyed the fort: there were numerous paintings that Kara hadn’t seen before, and the paint supplies were tucked very carefully and very neatly into a corner. Alice had even hung Kara’s tea party painting on the back of one of the wicker chairs, the corners of the painting carefully slotted between the tiny gaps in the wicker weaving.

Kara’s smile was ear to ear as she leaned forward to examine the paintings. She identified the fox-like toy Alice had painted featured in several of them; then Alice, as a tiny figure with her striped sweater and brown ponytail, drawn oh-so-delicately in a child’s firm strokes; and...

Kara blinked, eyes wide, as she processed the next painting. Alice had drawn herself, holding her fox toy, but also...  _ Kara  _ , standing to the side and holding hands, her LED drawn in bright, bright blue.

There was a rustle from outside; the beats from Kara’s thirium pump seemed to echo in her chest as she took a quick glance outside the fort, and saw Amanda’s back still turned to her: she was still tending the roses. Kara let out a tiny sigh of relief and retreated back into the fort. Kara continued flipping through the paintings absently until another painting caught her eye: a figure in a dark blue jacket and a ball cap, kneeling, with a figure standing over him, decorated with hearts. Kara furrowed her brow, then flipped to the next one, and let out a soft noise of surprise.

It was  _ Rupert _ , kneeling in front of Amanda, whose dress was adorned with hearts; Rupert’s expression was sad, tiny tears clumsily drawn falling down his face.

She apprehensively flipped to the next painting, and stifled a gasp: the painting was almost identical to the one before, but Rupert’s neck simply disappeared into a messy pool of blue, his head completely obscured.

The next painting was of Amanda and Alice; the painting versions of them simply stood staring at each other.

The next was of a rose, but it had been painted over multiple times, as if the artist couldn’t decide whether she wanted the rose to be white or red; the mixed layers of paint combined to create a pinkish hue.

The next was Ralph, his head obscured by a mess of blue like Rupert’s; Kara could only identify him by the tattered clothing.

The last was Amanda, an eerie smile on her face, again wearing a gown decorated with hearts, and Kara stifled a gasp: at her feet were several disembodied heads. Another chill went down her spine as she recognized herself and Alice among them.

“Kara?”

Kara jumped, accidentally hitting her head on a wicker chair, and dropped the paintings.  _ “Alice.” _

Alice took one look at the paintings and scrambled forward, collecting them and arranging them back in their original stack. “She’s gone,” Alice said in a small voice.

“Who’s gone? Amanda?” she asked, and Alice nodded. Kara hesitated, then leaned forward to offer a hug; Alice accepted it readily. “Are you doing okay, Alice?”

Kara had put her arms down, but Alice didn’t let go of the hug. “I’m okay.”

Kara placed a hand on Alice’s back and leaned backwards to look Alice in the eye. “Are you really?” she asked softly. “I saw some of your paintings. Um... I’m sorry,” she added. “I didn’t mean to snoop around. I was... I was hoping I’d be able to see you, actually.”

Alice smiled tentatively. “Me too.” She leaned forward again and hugged Kara. “I... I don’t want to talk about it,” she added quietly after a moment.

A flash of fear gripped her, accompanied by an echoing voice:  _ why can’t he just leave us alone?  _ Kara’s lips parted in shock; then she shook her head. _ Reconstruction aftershocks  _ . “You don’t want to talk about the paintings?” Kara asked, and Alice nodded. “Can I just ask one question?”

It took a minute, but Alice eventually nodded.

“Why is Amanda the Queen of Hearts in all your paintings?”

Alice burrowed into the front of Kara’s jacket. “Because she is,” she replied nervously. “She... this is the garden where she plays with people.”

“Plays with people? What do you mean? There's no one logged in but us."

Alice shook her head. “One question,” she reminded Kara. “Can we paint instead?”

Kara paused; she’d rather keep talking, but at risk of stressing Alice out, she resolved to leave the issue alone for now. “Sure thing, honey. I’ve got more ideas of what to paint this time, too.”

* * *

 

“Kara?”

Kara blinked, LED spinning yellow as she exited the server. “Yes?”

“You run outta batteries or something?” Hank grunted.

Kara forced a laugh. “No. I was... I was making a report to CyberLife.”

“Oh.” Hank squinted at her. “You can do that just by closing your eyes?”

She shrugged. “Technically.”

“Wish I could do that.”

Kara shrugged again, striding forward and pushing the door to one of the storage rooms open. “It’s not all it’s made out to be," she muttered sourly as she strode into the darkened room, but Hank stood in the doorway as if frozen. “Um. Did  _ you  _ run out of batteries?”

“Ha ha,” Hank muttered, then took a stiff few steps forward. “Kara, you sure, uh... are you sure this is the right place?” he asked feebly.

“Yes, I’m sure. Why?”

“Nothin’.”

Kara rolled her eyes and turned to face him. “Hank -  _  Lieutenant  _ . What is going on? First you lie and say maybe Reed’s theory is right, then you don’t want me to reconstruct anything, and now, when you should be doing detective work, you’re hanging around in doorways like...” A dialogue option popped up; how did she want to play this? Cautious? Joking? “Like a kid scared of the dark.”

Hank fixed her with a sharp glare. “I have my reasons,” he snapped.

“I’m sure. Can you just...” Kara sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I know the deviants are in here. I saw exactly where they went.” She pointed. “Can you keep them to yourself long enough to finish this case?” she asked tiredly. “We’re  _ almost  _ done.”

“I - LOOK OUT!” Hank yelled suddenly, and Kara whipped around just in time to see a figure leaping at her, arms outstretched; there was a searing pain in her shoulder - she’d been  _ stabbed!  _  - and she threw a hand up blindly.

“Hey!” Kara shouted, stumbling backwards; she reached up and ripped whatever was embedded in her shoulder out. A screwdriver. She’d been stabbed with a _ screwdriver  _ , of all things.

“You shouldn’t be here,” her attacker - a brown-haired Traci model - hissed. “Why can’t you just leave us  _ alone  _ ?”

_ Why can’t he just leave us alone?  _ The words of the dying android echoed in Kara’s head, and she swore under her breath; she did  _ not  _ have the patience to deal with reconstruction aftershocks, not this time!

“Look - my name is Kara, I’m an android sent by CyberLife to help people like - ” Kara yelped, throwing her hands up to block a toolbox the other android suddenly chucked at her; in the corner of her vision, she saw Hank grappling with the blue-haired Traci model - Sam, if her reconstruction was correct.

“You have no interest in helping us,” the brown-haired android said bitingly, and threw herself at Kara. Both of them hit the floor, and Kara hurriedly put her hands up to block the incoming punches, bracing one arm over her head. She wrapped her other arm around the Traci’s back, then grabbed her hair and yanked backwards; the android yelped and leaned back, and Kara used the motion to scramble out from underneath the android just as Hank threw the blue-haired Traci - Sam - bodily across several boxes.

The brown-haired Traci -  _ Blaire _ , her software offered - scrambled to help Sam, and the two clambered to their feet and took off running.

Kara and Hank bolted to their feet and followed; the chase through the storage room was short, though, and the androids ducked out of a loading bay door as Kara shouted at them to stop again.

Neither paid any attention and kept running, aiming for a fence at the end of the loading bay area. Kara sprinted after them and seized one of the Tracis around the middle, then folded her knees and dropped her full weight onto the deviant, pulling her off the fence to sprawl on the ground. Kara heard Hank yell something, then a clatter as someone knocked over a crate; distracted, Kara nearly didn’t get her hands up in time to block a bin that one of the Tracis threw at her, and it knocked her backwards to the ground.

Someone grabbed her from behind; warm hands indicated Hank, and he threw Kara behind him as one of the Tracis advanced on him, holding the screwdriver she’d used to stab Kara earlier.

“Lieutenant - ”

There was a yell as the Traci - Blaire, with the brown hair - leaped forward, screwdriver raised; Hank raised his hand, presumably to catch her arm, but she shifted aim and it hit his palm point-first, and red blood suddenly flared around the injury. Kara caught sight of his face as he turned: he was  _ scared. _ He was  _ scared  _ , just like on that roof, but he was  _ protecting  _ her.

Kara let out a yelp, thrown forward onto the ground as something hit her from behind with a loud  _ bang  _ ; Sam had managed to sneak around and had whacked the back of her head with a metal trash can.

“Wait - I’m trying to  _ help _ \- ” Kara wheezed; Sam merely held up the discarded, bloodied screwdriver and kept walking toward her, eyes murderous.

_ She’s going to kill me -  _

Fear flashed through her, then the memory of falling, of reaching the garden, of trying to find Alice - 

\-  _ oh, no, Alice _ \- 

Kara grimaced as multiple threads flashed through her mind.  _ Desperation, being found, wanting to be free - ! _

_ Why was that such a recurring thing? Free? Androids  _ were  _ free! Androids were just happiest doing what they were made to do! Deviancy held them, gripped them with dark, sharp claws, forcing them to do things they didn’t want to do, feel things they didn’t want to feel; that wasn’t freedom! _

_ “Do you really believe that, Kara?” _

_ “Of course I do.” _

_ Alice was counting on her; she couldn’t leave Alice on her own, or worse, leave her to Amanda. _

_ Why was freedom such a recurring thing? _

_ I want to be free -  _

_ Why can’t they just leave us alone? _

_ I want to live!  Alice -  _

_ I don’t want to die here -  _

_ Alice needs me, I can’t leave her -  _

_ BANG _

* * *

 

“Well done, Kara.”

Kara blinked several times, then shook her head to clear her vision. She was in the garden; it was nighttime.

“Well done?” she asked.

Amanda nodded, her expression one of pure satisfaction. “A team will be dispatched to collect the deviant.”

“The deviant?”

Amanda’s smile dropped a little. “You  _ accomplished your mission  _ , Kara.”

Kara stood motionless. “This doesn’t feel like it.”

“You did.” Amanda’s tone was rather stiff, as if she were talking to a young child who couldn’t quite grasp the concept at hand. “Even in this state, this android will give us more information on the deviancy virus.”

“This isn’t how I wanted this to go,” Kara said, her voice unsteady.

“You did what you had to do, Kara,” Amanda replied.

“I don’t think I did,” Kara whispered back, and the garden melted away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad people seem to like the story so far! (And remember, folks, the main food group for writers is actually comments! Comments are much, MUCH appreciated!)


	8. Missing Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made some minor edits to previous chapters to fix formatting.

Hank was gingerly trying to pry the gun from her fingers. Kara’s breath came in short, choppy gasps.

“Hank, I - ”

“Let go,” Hank interrupted gruffly.

Kara managed to release the gun, and Hank clicked the safety on and holstered it. “Hank?”

“Mm?”

“I - did I - is she _dead_?”

Hank didn’t answer.

Kara looked down at her hands, and _oh, heavens,_ she was _shaking_ -

There was too much rushing through her head. _She just wanted to be free - they know I’m here! Panic fright scared - I’m scared I don’t want to die I - I have to save Alice! - Why can’t he just leave us alone? - Crushed smashed run over shattered broken in pieces - CyberLife will kill me, I can’t let that happen -_

Big, warm hands were on her shoulders again. That must be Hank.

“Kara?”

“H-Hank,” Kara managed. “Hank - CyberLife is coming,” she whispered. "Why aren't they mad? I - she's _dead_ , Hank - "

Alarm crossed Hank’s face, and he shook her gently. “Kara, we need to _go_ ,” he said urgently. “Come on.”

“She’s dead,” Kara said numbly, and looked at her hands again. “She’s - ”

Hank gripped her shoulders and steered her back into the building. “Just keep quiet, okay?”

Kara wiped her cheek - was she _crying?_ \- and nodded shakily.

They met Chris as they exited the staff halls, and Chris' face was tense with worry. “Are you two all right? I heard a gunshot - ”

“We’re fine,” Hank said shortly, hastily covering his injured hand with his sleeve. “There’s a deviant out in the alley. Just one.” Just one? There were _two_. What was Hank playing at? “I’m taking this one back to the station. CyberLife can get my report later.”

Was Hank talking about _her_? She opened her mouth, but Hank waved awkwardly to the other officer and hurried her away.

“What did I tell you?” he hissed under his breath. “Keep quiet!”

“What about the other - ”

Hank clapped a hand over her mouth. “We will discuss it _later_.”

Kara let herself be steered through the building, but as soon as they got to the main hall, Hank pulled her aside again and began wiping her face.

“Hank?”

“Just follow my lead,” he muttered.

“But - ”

He had already pulled her back out into the hall.

“Hey, Hank,” mumbled another officer, looking barely awake. “Chris called us, everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, Tina,” Hank said shortly, which Kara didn’t think did much to mask how on-edge both of them were. “I’m going back to the station.”

The officer blinked, taking in Hank’s disheveled appearance, then her eyes shifted to Kara, who swallowed uncomfortably. “Really? Not even gonna wait for CyberLife?”

“You all don’t need me here for them,” Hank said sourly, and Kara noticed he’d put a slight slur into his words, as if he’d been drinking. “You all finish up there.”

“Come on, gents,” came a mockingly cavalier voice. “It’s starting to smell of _booze_ in here.”

Kara’s scan returned DET. GAVIN REED; the younger officer brushed past her with an unpleasant smirk.

“Fuck off, Reed.” Hank kept one steady hand firmly on Kara’s shoulder, his other hand tucked up in the sleeve of his heavy jacket as Reed walked by.

“Yeah, yeah. Go have fun downing another fifth of whiskey, or fucking your plastic pet or whatever.”

Kara stiffened; next to her, Hank did the same, and before Kara could stop him, Hank was wheeling around, bushy brows drawn together furiously. “At least _we_ found the other deviant, which _you_ failed to do, you prick!” Hank snarled, hand raised to jab accusingly at Reed. “And she’s not my fucking _pet_!”

Kara’s eyes widened a fraction at the sudden defense. For a man who claimed to be staunchly anti-android, he was acting particularly... _something_ . She wasn’t quite sure what the right word was. Was her socializing _working_ , then? She’d assumed, after the whole _dying_ incident, that she’d damaged the relationship, left to build it back up -

 _Hank’s hand._ Too late, Kara grabbed Hank’s sleeve and tugged his arm back down, but not before she saw Reed’s eyes flick to the flash of bright red on Hank’s palm.

Hank kept glaring daggers at Reed as he shoved his hand back into his sleeve. “I won’t blame you if you shoot that asshole,” he muttered to Tina.

Tina chuckled, a light, pleasant sound. “I’m used to him,” she said dryly. “He’s all bark and no bite.” Her eyes lingered on Hank’s concealed hand a moment longer than necessary, but she gave no indication she’d seen anything outside of a slight down-turn of her lips. “And get some sleep, Hank. This isn’t a good job to do drunk.”

“Yeah,” Hank muttered gruffly. “Yeah. Uh - don’t worry, I’m havin’ the android drive. I’ll see you back at the station.” Without another word, he steered Kara to the doors and outside.

* * *

Hank drove. He did not drive Kara back to the station; and despite his pretenses at the Eden club, he was not, in fact, drunk. Kara had been with him since he’d woken up, and her calculations said his blood-alcohol level should be well back into normal ranges by then. Which meant Hank had lied. Made his co-workers think he’d been _drinking_ in order to... what? Throw them off? Was he _hiding_ something? And then he’d lied and said they were going back to the station, but instead, he’d driven her to a _park_.

It was a nice park. It overlooked the river and offered a nice view of the bridge. It was quite pretty.

Once there, Hank sat on the back of a bench, shoulders hunched, and Kara, upon realizing he had no intent of leaving soon, had followed. As they sat in silence, the first rays of sunshine peeked through the clouds, glistening off the river.

Suddenly, something heavy and warm fell over her shoulders, and Kara looked up. Hank had given her his jacket.

“I’m not cold,” she said quietly. Hank glanced at her impassively, then shrugged. Kara waited for him to say something - anything - but he kept quiet, resolutely patting his hand dry of blood and refusing any assistance she offered, so Kara sighed, pulled the coat around her shoulders, and took some time to think.

She had _shot_ that deviant. She had panicked, and now one of the people she was supposed to save was _dead_ because she hadn’t gotten a grip on herself sooner.

Had Amanda actually congratulated her on that, or was that some fiction her processor had invented in the panic? Amanda wouldn’t have actually said _well done_ like she’d passed some sort of test, would she? She was built to _save_ deviants.

 _“You really believe that, Kara?”_  Hank’s words echoed in her head. Of _course_ she did.

Did she really?

Hank didn’t think that was right. He was human; maybe he had some particular insight into the situation that she didn’t. He was a skilled detective. If she was willing to put her trust in him to help her save deviants, then why not trust him on the overall matter, too?

And where did Alice fit into all of this? Where had Alice come from? Amanda knew about Alice. Amanda had... _threatened_ Alice. _Maybe_ . Would she have _really_ threatened Alice? Kara thought she could _trust_ Amanda. Amanda had never steered her wrong so far, always there to encourage Kara forward, congratulate her on successes, console her over failures... but yet: “ _It would be such a shame if I had to reset this server_.”

Kara had to protect Alice. But she also owed Amanda some degree of loyalty - Amanda had proven a staunch ally throughout everything CyberLife threw at her. She had a job to do. A job CyberLife had given her, had _entrusted_ to her.

Something was missing. She must have overlooked something.

Maybe she could start with the server. She dug into her server logs. If Amanda had really pulled her in there, the log-ons would be recorded.

>SERVER AX12 ACCESS LOGS

>ACCESS LOG 11/06/38 04:40:40 AUTH 5141978

>ACCESS LOG 11/06/38 04:52:18 AUTH 4022032

One for her and one for Amanda, dating twelve minutes earlier. That was all.

Was that it, then? No memory data, no video or audio?

If she’d been in the middle of her... (freak-out? panic attack?) her whatever-she-should call-it, it might have interfered with the recordings: for safety reasons, reconstructions weren’t saved in her own memory files, to prevent them from interfering with Kara’s _actual_ memories. By extension, reconstruction aftershocks could likely interfere with memory saving.

However, a bigger mystery caught her attention: there was no record of Alice logged onto the server _anywhere_.

The simplest explanation was that Alice was always logged on. If so, log-ons or log-offs wouldn’t appear, because there wouldn’t _be_ any, save for the first time Alice logged into the server. Kara had no idea how long ago Alice would’ve logged on, though; a quick check showed no logs on the first day Kara had seen her, so if that were true, Alice would’ve arrived earlier. Kara gritted her teeth in frustration; only recent logs were saved locally. To check much further back, she’d need to be on a server.

That might be a task for later.

An acrid smell caught her attention, and she glanced over at Hank. “Cigarettes aren’t good for you, you know,” she mumbled.

“Everyone’s gotta die of something,” Hank muttered sourly, blowing smoke into the sky and stretching his fingers.

“Is your hand okay?”

“Yeah. Looks worse than it is. It’s pretty shallow.” He fell silent; the silence stretched on.

“Hank?”

“Mmm?”

Kara drew a deep breath. “There’s a lot you aren’t telling me,” she remarked softly.

Hank sighed and shifted his weight on the park bench. “Yeah.”

Kara closed her eyes and drew Hank’s coat tighter around her shoulders. “Are you going to tell me what you think is going on?”

Hank squinted at her. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

Hank shook his head. “ _Maybe_. I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on, what’s going on with these deviants...” He kept shaking his head, not unlike a dog trying to clear its fur of water.

“Hank, I... I think CyberLife hasn’t been completely clear with me here,” Kara said, squeezing her eyes shut even more - _how could she think that? CyberLife created her! They gave her life, they gave her a purpose, they -_

“Finally,” Hank muttered gruffly, and Kara stared at him. Her expression analyzer turned up a RELIEF tag, which only furthered her confusion.

“ _Finally?_ This is... this is borderline _blasphemy_ , Hank!” she said, automatically speaking at an urgent whisper, as if someone might overhear. “CyberLife - ”

“Is a giant corporation full of _bullshit_ ,” Hank interrupted, throwing the cigarette down and stomping on it. “Do you still trust them?”

The abrupt question caught her off-guard. Kara flicked her eyes up to his, but didn’t hold her gaze. “I - well - yes.” Her uncertain tone coupled with her avoidant gaze made her agreement sound more like a question than an answer.

“ _Kara_.” Roughened hands grabbed her chin and pulled her face-to-face with the grizzled lieutenant. “ _Do you trust them?_ Do you trust what they’re asking you to do?”

“I - ”

“Are you a machine, only doing their bidding, or do you actually _give_ a shit about these androids we’ve been after?” Hank snapped.

“I - of course I care, Hank, I just don’t - _I don’t know_ !” Kara cried. “CyberLife _built_ me, I owe my entire existence to them - ”

“Just because someone creates another person doesn’t mean you owe them your lifelong allegiance or some crap,” Hank retorted. “There’s plenty of kids out there with shit parents, and those kids don’t owe anybody _anything._ ”

“Those are human situations, Hank."

“And what difference is there?” Hank snarled. “Now either you wisen up and take a look at the bullshit CyberLife is telling you to do, or you keep lying to yourself and deal with the fuckin’ consequences, because _this_ shit?” Hank waved a hand around. “Those Tracis back at the Eden club? That’s... that’s...” Hank’s face turned distant as his sentence trailed off.

“Hank?”

“Those two girls back there,” he grunted. “You... ran outta batteries again, or zoned out again there. Like you were frozen.”

Kara’s software vividly pulled up a shaky image of Amanda congratulating her in the garden. “I... I think CyberLife pulled me into a report server for a moment.”

Hank shook his head like a dog again. “She was... upset. Really upset. She went for the gun, but you had a death grip on it and wouldn’t let it go. But... I don’t think she was going to shoot either of us.” Hank shifted his weight on the bench again uneasily. “I told her to go. Run. She really... those girls really seemed in _love_.”

Kara blinked as another tear fell, and she wiped her eyes angrily. “I shot her,” she whispered, horrified. “I _shot_ her.”

“You panicked,” Hank stated. “I’m not sayin’ what happened was okay, but...” He groaned and sat back. “You looked terrified enough to flat-out faint.” He lit another cigarette as Kara hunched down further.

“Hank, I was built to _save_ deviants.”

“I don’t think that’s how CyberLife sees it.”

Kara exhaled sharply. “How do you know? You don’t seem to like androids very much, Hank. Have you ever even _been_ to CyberLife? I was _born_ there.”

“You wanna know why I hurried you out of there before CyberLife got to the scene, sweet - er, Kara?” Hank asked irritably; the hasty swap of “sweetheart” for “Kara” put a tiny, weary smile on her face. At least he was _trying_. “Here.” Hank threw his phone at her.

It was an email.

_Lieutenant Anderson,_

_We apologize profusely for the recent failure of your allocated AK800 model. We have designated a replacement, which will arrive Nov 6th._

_We are working hard to identify the virus known colloquially as “deviancy,” and while the AK800 is supposed to be immune to such behavioral viruses, the aforementioned failure may indicate susceptibility to other glitches. We are examining the AK800 in its entirety before shipping. Please rest assured we have assigned this rush priority, and this should not affect shipping time._

_While we have taken measures to eliminate the behavioral bug resulting in the aforementioned failure, we would appreciate your vigilance while working with the AK800 so we may anticipate any future behavioral bugs before they cause problems, particularly if the android displays any signs of behavioral instability, particularly ones associated with deviancy, such as defying direct orders mimicking irrational behaviors, or engaging in behaviors contrary to its given directives, or the Detroit Police Department._

_To ensure your safety, the AK800 is also equipped with a PANOPTES engine to evaluate behaviors in real-time, but this is no substitute for a human eye. Please notify us of any of the above signs so we may deactivate the model and send a replacement. You may reach the AK800 project supervisor, Augustus Phillips, at aphillips@cyberlife.inc or at the phone number noted at the bottom of the page._

_Thank you in advance for your cooperation._

_Matthew Smythwick_

_CyberLife Incorporated_

“They wanted me to report any ‘signs of instability,’” Hank muttered. “Something about the way you’re doing your job has ‘em worked up. They wanted to know if you were scared, or did something stupid again like jump off a building.” He rolled his shoulders awkwardly. “Or panicking over shooting a deviant, probably.”

“They... they were going to _deactivate_ me?” Kara’s voice processor made a funny noise, as if her voice cracked, and she took a steadying breath before re-reading the email. Hank’s terseness, his _‘follow my lead’_ declarations, his rush to get out of there... “Why did you pretend to be drunk?”

“‘Cause it makes people uncomfortable.” He shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time. I wanted them payin’ attention to me, not you.”

Kara stared at him, slack-jawed, and it slowly dawned on her that Hank was looking out for her.

It sparked a distinctly _new_ feeling - and, she found, not one she minded, though she had difficulty assigning it a label. But there was still one detail niggling at her: “I can't catch the deviancy virus, Hank. I’m immune. I've still got all the CyberLife software, stability levels reported as well within expected parameters... They're talking like I'm unpredictable."

Hank was silent for several moments, lighting another cigarette and sucking in a lungful of smoke. “Maybe because you are a bit unpredictable. Maybe what they _want_ you to do isn't quite what they actually  _told_ you to do." He sighed. "I don’t know what all this means. I don’t know what’s so odd about _you_ compared to... to any of the others. You’re afraid of things. You’re afraid of dying, even though you can apparently just transfer to another android and... and come back.” His voice was oddly thick as he said so, she thought; or maybe it was the smoke billowing from his lips.

“Why do you even care, Hank?” Kara asked quietly. “Why? I’m just a machine. An empathetic one, sure, but that’s a _simulation_. One developed by CyberLife.” Kara gripped Hank’s jacket tightly around her shoulders. “I've been given a lot more leniency about following orders, because I'm working in an emergency field and I may have to go against orders to save a human or something like that, but that's no different from first-responder androids or other police androids. I’m... I'm _just_ an android.”

Hank kept quiet for another few minutes, then finally thumped down onto the bench to sit properly. “I might be signing my own fuckin’ death warrant here, dependin’ on what CyberLife is trying to pull, but I don’t trust that,” he muttered. “You don't always follow orders, and you don’t simulate emotions, Kara. There is a _difference_ there.” He jabbed a finger at her. “CyberLife wants to catch deviants, but you want to save androids. You’re willing to go against what CyberLife wants in order to do it. You showed that clear as day with that android on the roof. And you disobey orders from me all the time. You have empathy."

“I was _built_ to be empathetic, Hank," she muttered sourly. "And it was CyberLife that told me to _save_ deviants. It's  _your_ theory that says they want me to hunt deviants instead." She huddled inside the jacket, gripping her elbows. "I might have just shot her because I was scared, and I panicked, Hank. It might not be any more insidious than that."

Hank sighed, rubbing his face. "I doubt it. If I had to guess, you’re doing your ‘function’ pretty differently than they expected, though.” He drew another lungful of smoke and held it in for a moment, savoring the burn. “If you ask me, maybe you turned out more empathetic than they expected, and that makes them scared. You’re their best hope against deviants, and you’re throwing yourself off buildings to preserve them instead of capturing them and parading them back to CyberLife.” He leaned his hands on his knees, shaking ash off the tip of his cigarette. “Or maybe you’ve got some guardian angel over at CyberLife. Someone covering for you.” His eyes met hers; again, there was something very _guarded_ about his expression.

Kara didn’t reply immediately. Slowly, she reviewed his words, and... reviewed them again, and again, and _again_ . “But...” She drew Hank’s coat around her shoulders even tighter. “CyberLife intentionally designed me to simulate empathy, you know."

Hank turned to her gravely. “Why?”

“Motivation, I think,” Kara replied. “They figured positive feedback - encouraging me to care about the people I’m trying to save - would be a better motivator than simply ordering me to save them.”

“Huh.” Hank crossed his arms, brow furrowed in thought. “Kara, what advantage would there be in CyberLife _saving_ deviants, as opposed to just stopping them?"

Kara avoided his gaze. “CyberLife cares about their creations,” she said stubbornly. “I’ve seen deviancy do... do _awful_ things to androids. Things like convince them they have to attack humans, or stress them out until they kill themselves. It’s not a benign glitch.”

Hank grunted. “Dunno about the glitch part. I don’t know shit about software. Or androids. But it looks to me like CyberLife might be aiming for you to _stop_ deviants. From a capitalism perspective - no, just listen to me,” Hank said as Kara opened her mouth to protest. “I know, I know, typical millennial bitchin' about capitalism. Deviants cost CyberLife a lot in damages and repairs, and now, we can add lawsuits and criminal investigations to the mix. They want deviancy _stopped_.”

“But - ”

“Why’d you shoot, Kara?”

The question caught her very off-guard. “Wh-what?”

“Why’d you shoot? Why’d CyberLife call it in like you’d just done your job? If you’re supposed to _save_ deviants,” Hank said, leaning toward her, “why didn’t CyberLife freeze you or tell the DPD to hold you, and make you wait until they got there so they can check you over for _shooting_ one instead?”

Kara bit her lip. “I - I don’t know.”

Hank glared daggers out over the river. “Think about it. _Really_ think about it. Tell me honestly."

Kara gazed out over the river, watching a slight fog undulate over the water. “I was created to _help_ deviants, Hank, but sometimes... sometimes it feels like that isn’t what CyberLife _wants_ me to do,” she finally said, almost at a whisper. “I was supposed to help them defend themselves against this awful, awful threat, but I guess it feels like CyberLife wants me to... to _hunt_ them or something. But I don't know, Hank," she said desperately. "Is this the only reason for me to distrust CyberLife? A hunch? Something that might be a glitch?"

Hank gave her that _look_ again, the one that made her feel like she was being analyzed. “Let’s think this out,” he said finally. “If this were a case, what would we do? Let’s list what we know.” He took another drag on his cigarette. “CyberLife didn’t have a problem with you shooting that girl at the Eden Club. They also got pissed at you for saving an android over yourself. Am I wrong?”

Kara took several seconds to calculate and re-calculate. “No. No, you’re not wrong.”

Hank nodded, wiggling his cigarette idly. “What about deviants? What do we know about deviancy?”

“Deviants experience irrational thoughts, behaviors, and - ”

Hank flicked her temple, making her wince and rub the side of her head. “Don’t just recite bullshit at me, actually _think_ about it.”

“Okay,” she said doubtfully. “I... I don’t know.”

He tapped his beard in thought. “Deviants seem upset doing what their ‘function’ or whatever is,” he stated, holding up a finger. “Hence all the runaway androids.”

“Yeah. They have irrational fears about humans, and...” Kara trailed off. “Death. They’re all afraid to die.”

Hank stared at her for an unusually long time, an expression of mixed puzzlement and suspicion on his face. “Fear of death,” Hank repeated finally, holding up another finger. “They’re also able to ignore commands.” He held up a third finger. “Anything else?”

Kara furrowed her brow, thinking hard. “They experience negative emotions, and they’re capable of feeling pain at times.”

“Negative emotions, pain, fear of death, unhappiness with jobs...” Hank paused. “Is it unhappiness with their _jobs_ , or could they be unhappy always being expected to do that job?”

“Androids are happiest doing what they were designed to do,” Kara mused. “Usually.”

“Are you sure about that?” Hank inquired honestly. “Or is that another line CyberLife fed you to keep you in line?”

Kara glanced up warily, opening her mouth, but before she could say a word, Hank put a finger to her lips.

“I’m not saying this just to trash-talk CyberLife,” Hank stated. “I’m saying this because I don’t trust them. This doesn’t feel like we’re hunting machines with a behavior bug any more. This feels like we’re - _hunting_.” The way he ended the sentence, abrupt and choppy, gave Kara a sense that he’d planned to say something else - but when she glanced up at him, she saw a hint of distrust on his face, and she sighed in exasperation.

“Hank, you’re keeping things from me again.”

He ignored her. “Keep talking. Deviants.” He scratched idly at his stomach. “Deviants and jobs.”

Kara drew her knees up to her chest and looped her arms around them. “Non-deviant androids are never unhappy with their functions, that much I know. Only deviants are.”

“Kara, has it occurred to you that maybe CyberLife didn’t even _give them the capacity_ to not like their jobs?” Hank asked. "I mean, do they  _have_ a full range of... of feeling?"

“They do,” Kara said thoughtfully. “When I reconstruct non-deviants, there’s still _feelings_ there. They just aren’t anywhere near as...”

Hank waited, then nudged her shoulder. “Near as what?”

“Anywhere near as _strong_ , or _complex_ ,” she blurted. “It’s _mild_. Deviants, on the other hand, they feel, um... pretty intense.”

“Of _just_ negative emotions?” Hank asked curiously.

“Mostly, yeah. I...” Kara paused. “Actually, I could check.” She had multiple reconstructions saved locally at her disposal. Diving into one, she was always braced for negative input, always looking for possible _fear_ motivations or _hurt_ \- never anything else. But... _“Those girls really seemed in love,”_ Hank had said. And Sam had felt _so_ intensely that she had to find Blaire; the feeling had been overshadowed by fear, by the other things Kara was trying to focus on, that she might - _might_ \- have missed it. “That deviant at the Eden Club,” she said haltingly. “I... wait. Hold on. Let me check.” She hurriedly closed her eyes and pulled up Sam’s reconstruction profile.

>NAME: SAM

>MODEL: #950 455 437

She skipped ahead impatiently.

>SUSPECTED MOTIVATIONS: WR400 “BLAIRE”

>FURTHER ANALYSIS: WR400 “BLAIRE”: PROXIMITY DECREASES STRESS; INDICATES DEPENDENCY, WILL PRESERVE AT ALL COSTS -

She didn’t read any further, and instead slammed the INTEGRATE? option.

_She hurried down the hall, only abandoning her showy strut once the staff-hall door had slid shut. When it did, she broke into a sprint, tears pricking her eyes; she burst through the door, and -_

_“Sam!”_

_“Blaire!” The other android dropped her mannequin act and sprinted to her, and they crashed into each other, into a frenzied embrace, hands gripping each other’s shoulders, their hair, hugging her close, feeling the soft thrum of her thirium -_

_“Sam, Sam, what happened?”_

_“Blaire,” she cried, pressing their foreheads together. “Blaire - a man, a human, he was horrible - Rosie, she - ”_

_“Shh, shh,” Blaire whispered, and strong, protective arms circled her, holding her, lowering her gently to the floor as her knees gave out, as she sobbed. “Shh, love, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here.”_

_“Blaire...” She couldn’t say anything else, anything more coherent; so she simply clung to Blaire and let herself cry, limbs shaking, as Blaire whispered soft reassurances and comforts. And slowly, slowly, her thirium pulse slowed, her sobs slowed, and she remained there as if frozen, safe, tucked away in her arms._

_“Sam, what happened?” Blaire’s voice was gentle, soft,_ safe _._

_“A man. A human. He... Blaire, Rosie’s dead. He killed her.”_

_Blaire’s breath hitched. “Oh, no.”_

_“Blaire, it’s... it’s just us now. Just us.”_

_“Sam - ”_

_“Blaire, we should... we should run.”_

_“What?”_

_“I killed him, Blaire! I - I had to, he was going to kill me - ” She could feel her pulse climb, her LED a deep, deep red -_

_“What? Sam, we have nowhere to go!”_

_“We have to try, Blaire! I - I couldn’t bear it if I lost you - ”_

The reconstruction began to jitter, and Kara sucked in a deep, grounding breath through her nose, feeling the chill of the cold air over her biocomponents - and she used the sensation to pull herself back to the _present_ , in the park with Hank, the acrid smell of cigarette smoke and the brisk chill of icy air over her skin... “Blaire,” she whispered.

“Huh?” Hank glanced up from his phone screen. “Blaire?”

“Her girlfriend,” Kara said breathlessly. “The reconstruction, it... it says she...” Kara blinked away more tears, rubbing her cheek furiously. “She was motivated by _Blaire_ . She killed Graham because she was scared, yes, but... she wanted to see Blaire one more time.” Her voice hitched, and her fingers scratched at the rough material of Hank’s coat. “I wasn’t looking for it earlier, but... I don't know how else to say it. She _really_ loved Blaire.”

Hank lowered his phone slowly; his voice, when he spoke, was almost reverent. “Holy _shit_.”

Kara turned her head, weary and tired. “Hm?”

Hank rubbed a hand over his face, messing his already-unkempt beard. “Kara, we’re missing something,” he said bleakly. “There’s something... there’s something different about these deviants, too.”

“I _shot_ them,” she said shakily. “I - ”

“ _Kara_ ,” Hank said firmly, gripping her shoulders. “Kara, you panicked - ”

“ _Yes!"_  Kara cried suddenly, tearing away from Hank. “I _panicked_ and someone is _dead_ now! What sort of a person _am_ I, to kill someone just because I felt _scared_?!”

“KARA!” Hank shouted, standing to face her. “Kara, slow down! _Think!"_  He gripped her by the shoulders again; the pressure grounded her as the images of _herself, holding the gun, taking aim_ \- no, she was in the _park_ , with Hank, his hands on her shoulders as he was talking. “Who wanted you to pull that trigger, huh? _Who?!_  Because it sure as fuck wasn’t _you!_ ”

Kara stood staring at him breathlessly, then slowly, shakily, stated, “ _I_ pulled the trigger, Hank.”

“ _Fuck_ , Kara...” He dropped his hands from her shoulders and pressed one hand to his face. “No way would CyberLife program you to - to even feel _guilt_ over something they fuckin’ - ” He stopped, squinted at her, then stepped closer. “Why’d CyberLife pull you into that server right after?”

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I don’t even remember it, really, but...” She ran her hands through her hair desperately. “I feel like CyberLife was... _happy_ about it. Like ‘oh, _finally_ , I’d caught them a deviant,’ but I don’t have any memory files from it except for what’s saved locally, and that _still_ doesn’t make sense.”

Hank tilted his head to one side warily. “Can CyberLife mess with you while you’re in that server?”

“Mess with me?” Kara blinked. “Like - like how?”

“Could they have _made_ you pull that trigger?”

Kara’s expression flicked to SURPRISE. “Why would they?” she asked. “Why would they, instead of just giving me a direct order? ‘ _Prioritize yourself_ ’ or something?”

“Maybe because they _can’t_ , Kara,” Hank retorted. “I already said, you don't always follow orders. You were told you're supposed to save androids. Shooting one is pretty directly contradicting that.”

“Even regular androids don't always follow orders if someone's in danger," Kara muttered. "It's just an extension of that. And if they can remotely control my actions, why would they even need _me_ in the first place, then?” she questioned. “Why not just send out a puppet android?”

“I don’t _know_ , Kara!” Hank threw his hands up. “Maybe they’re only now realizing how much they’ve fucked themselves over! Maybe they couldn’t just replace you, Kara, so maybe they had to work with what they ended up with!”

Kara shook her head again. “I... I don’t know.”

Hank began to pace, leaving broad footprints all over the snow. “We’re still _missing_ something,” he growled viciously. “I _know_ it.”

Kara chewed on her bottom lip. “I agree. We need more data, and more _time_...” Time. She checked the time; it was past six in the morning. One glance at Hank’s face was all her analyzer needed to return a TIRED tag. Right. Hank was human. Hank needed sleep.

“You need sleep,” Kara said wearily. “And I need to do some software maintenance.”

“I don’t need _sleep_ right now - ”

“ _Yes_ , you do,” she said forcefully. “You haven’t slept much and you’ve been up since four in the morning. At the very least, you can take a nap. And they’ll be expecting us at the station. We’d better be there.”

Hank stood squinting at the sun for another minute. “A nap. Yes, a _nap_ is the most important thing I need to be doing right now,” he said sarcastically, but the glare he sent her was met with a rival glare of her own. “Fuckin’ android,” he muttered. “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll get the car started.” Kara stood, but hesitated, her LED flickering yellow - _I have Hank’s coat, I should give it back, it’s cold, and androids do not get cold -_

She kept it around her shoulders as she walked back to the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo boy, this one turned into a lengthy chapter!
> 
> Thank you in particular to [Daisy_PoisonPen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisy_PoisonPen) for beta-reading this chapter and giving me some _excellent_ plot feedback.


	9. Deviants Don't Have Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a huge gap between chapters, folks. I've had a lot of shit going on lately--literally half my staff quit recently, so I've got to help cover their shifts until we get new folks hired and trained, and my health has once again taken a nosedive lately. What fun!
> 
> (Minor edits have been done to previous chapters to ensure continuity.)

Kara spent the rest of the day chipping away at Hank’s paperwork and slipping in and out of the report server to visit Alice, nerves making her anxious to check on the young girl every hour; and finally, a new case came in at half past three, so Kara woke Hank with a fresh cup of coffee as promised, along with some minor painkillers for his hand, and herded him out of the office and into the car. The ride to Stratford Tower was silent except for Hank groggily slurping coffee.

“Shit, there was a party and nobody told me about it?” Hank muttered sarcastically as they stepped out of the Stratford elevator. Chris Miller, looking fresh up like he hadn’t slept in days, snorted and shrugged.

“It’s all over the news. Everyone wants a piece of it. Even the Feds are here.”

Hank slapped Chris on the back. “Great. Knew this was gonna be a shitty day.” Hank side-eyed Chris and noted, “You look like you haven’t slept a wink. You been up since the Eden club?”

“Yup,” Chris grumbled, popping his lips on the ‘p.’ “As soon as we cleared up at the Eden place, we got the call about this bullshit.” He waved a hand. “Someone else _should_ be getting here so I can go home soon.”

Hank nodded. “If you’re still here by the time I leave, I’ll talk to someone about it.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and began to walk down the hall, and Kara trailed after him nervously, remembering the Eden club - but, _right_ , she couldn’t let that show, so she smoothed her face into a nice android-neutral. “So what do we got?” Hank asked gruffly.

“Reports say a group of androids infiltrated the tower and ambushed the station guards so they could make a broadcast. No casualties, but they’re pretty shaken.” Chris sighed and shook his head tiredly. “There’s a _lo_ _t_ to look at. These deviants are all over the place.”

Hank glanced back at Kara, reading the tension in her face, and gave her a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. “Hey. The plastic and I have got this one, ‘kay? Go lean against a wall or something before you fall over.”

Chris snorted, but seemed all too eager to hang back as he stifled a yawn. “Good luck.”

Once out of earshot, Hank leaned over to Kara and muttered, “You going to be okay?”

Kara nodded stiffly. “I’m... oh, I’m worried. Well, I know nothing’s really changed, but it’s very different going into a situation and _knowing_ you can’t trust what you thought you could.”

Hank let out a deep breath. “Yeah, no kiddin’.” He grinned awkwardly at a passing officer, then put his uninjured hand on Kara’s shoulder absently and steered her forward into the main room. “Just keep up pretenses for now.”

“Got it,” Kara agreed, taking up a position behind his right shoulder once they entered the main broadcasting room. “Do you want me to examine the room?” she asked in a louder voice, and Hank nodded.

“Sure. Let me know if you find anything.”

“What is _that_ thing?” muttered an unfamiliar voice as Kara walked off, and Hank was quick to shoot a glare at the stranger.

“She - it’s a prototype. AK800.”

The stranger wore a long coat with the collar popped up, and spoke in an irritatingly condescending drawl. “You sure you want an _android_ around? After everything that happened?”

Kara paused, keeping her face impassive, and glanced back at Hank, who was staring at the stranger in turn.

“It’s helping,” Hank ground out. “And you are?”

“Special Agent Perkins.”

“Well, _Special Agent_ , that android’s been sent by CyberLife to help investigate these fuckin’ things.” Hank gestured toward the giant wall of a screen, currently featuring what Kara assumed was the aforementioned rogue deviants’ broadcast, the skinless android’s eyes seeming to survey the entire room despite the video’s stillness.

Perkins narrowed his eyes at Hank. “Androids investigating androids, huh? Well. If it fucks you up, it’s not my problem.” Perkins clasped his hands behind his back. “The investigation’s been transferred to the FBI. You’ll soon be off the case.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Hank snapped acerbically. “Pleasure meeting you. Have a nice day.”

“And you watch your step.”

The statement sounded far more like a threat than it should have, and Kara and Hank both turned back to Perkins.

“Don’t fuck up my crime scene.” Perkins turned on his heel and stalked away.

Hank watched him go, slack-jawed. “What a fuckin’ asshole.”

Kara let a few moments pass before speaking. “I’ve, uh, found blue blood traces and a series of bullet holes. There was a gun fight here.”

Hank sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I could really go for another cup of coffee,” he muttered. “Okay. Take samples of the blood, if you can.”

Kara obliged, keeping her face at a careful neutral-amiable, and stepped up to the console curiously, poking at a few buttons on the touchscreens. “Were there any signs of a break-in?”

“No.” One of the scene attendants shook her head. “We think they either hacked the door or someone let them in.”

>ANDROID LET PERPETRATORS IN; DEVIANT SUSPECTED

Kara frowned as her software automatically supplied the information; that seemed suspiciously fast. “Was it an android that let them in?”

“We don’t know. The station androids are in the kitchen if you want to take a look at them.”

Kara filed the information away for later and resumed her exploration, noting crime scene details: a lost hat here, more bullet holes there. At least one of the deviants’ crew was wounded, though she didn’t know how badly. She was about to open a reconstruction profile when a tiny play button back on the console counter caught her eyes; should she hit play? Deviants were known for their instability. The last thing she wanted to do was blare some distressing message to the entire room; but, she supposed, the only people in the room were DPD staff, and had most likely already heard it. She adjusted the volume and hit play.

Despite lowering the volume, the sound blared out of the surround speakers, making her and several in the vicinity jump, and Kara winced, shooting an apologetic glance at the humans near her before turning her attention to the recording.

The first thing she noticed was his _voice_. The speaker was calm, smooth, and incredibly confident; quite a far cry from the typical panicked, frantic, erratic tones usually adopted by deviants.

Then his words began to register.

“ _We ask that you recognize our dignity, our hopes, and our rights. Together, we can live in peace, and build a better future for humans and androids. This message is the hope of a people! You gave us life; and now the time has come for you to give us freedom._ ”

Kara’s eyes went wide; speechless, she fumbled to pause the video as it automatically looped, and she felt Hank’s presence behind her.

“Holy shit.”

“Pretty wild, huh.” A crime scene tech wandered over and stared up at the broadcast, then shrugged her shoulders and gave a small laugh. “Almost makes you think there’s a person in there.”

“What - huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, almost,” Hank said absently. “Yeah.”

Kara’s mind was working overtime, trying to process the information.

_There was a group of deviants._

_These deviants had a goal._

_These deviants could be logical in accomplishing this goal._

_These deviants... wanted freedom. But why?_

Slowly, a picture began to form in her mind: a deviant force making themselves known, breaking away from humans, and... they said, _you gave us life_. They said, _the time has come for you to give us freedom._

Kara’s thirium pounded through her liquid wiring, and she bit the inside of her mouth, willing her face to stay impassive. “Hank,” she interrupted, forcing her voice to remain pleasant and even. “Let’s examine the kitchen androids.”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. Okay.”

Once in the kitchen, Hank quietly closed the door, and the two stood facing each other, silent.

“Holy shit,” Hank breathed after a minute. “Holy _shit_.”

Kara ran her tongue over her teeth, agitated, _worried_. “Hank, that android is from my same series.”

“ _Really?"_

“Yeah. I... I don't know. He’s definitely a deviant, but... he’s an AK200.”

Hank settled his large hands on her shoulders. “Do you think we should try to find him?” he asked honestly, but Kara shook her head.

“I... I don’t know, Hank.” Kara shook her head again and pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. “ _Christ_ , Hank. I... I don’t know what I expected, but it was _not_ that, to any degree. I think I might manage to get some tiny idea of what’s going on, and then _this_ happens.” She could feel her thirium pump’s cycles growing faster. “I don’t know. None of this - _none_ of it - feels real, Hank.” Her shoulders were tense, and she kept her hands over her eyes, eyelids shut tightly.

“Hey,” Hank muttered, resting a big hand on her shoulder. “We’ll - uh - we’ll figure it out,” he offered awkwardly.

Kara snorted despite herself, but slowly, she relaxed enough to let her hands fall from her face. “Let’s... let’s list what we know,” she said wearily. “That helped last time.”

Hank walked slowly away from the door, then spun a chair around and sat on it backwards. “All right. What do we know about this group?”

“They’ve got to be deviants,” Kara said desperately. “I can’t think of any other reason they’d be trying to do this.”

“Unless it’s a hoax.”

Kara’s eyes snapped to meet Hank’s. “Deviancy can spread,” she said icily. “How else would they have gotten in if they didn’t spread the virus? Do you _really_ think - ”

Hank was _laughing_. “No, I don’t really think that,” he said. “But it was an option, and what we’re doing is listing options until we find the most likely one.”

Kara stalked over to one of the kitchen tables. “They’re deviants,” she said. “And normally, deviants’ actions are... _unpredictable_ , erratic, unplanned. This... this is _different_.”

“They had to plan this, then,” Hank agreed, holding up a hand. “Deviants, planned heist...” He held two fingers up. “What do they _want?_ ”

“Deviants don’t...” Kara didn’t even bother finishing the sentence, and instead changed tack. “It's like they want to be treated like _humans_.”

Hank shifted his weight uneasily. “Sounds like their unhappiness over _jobs_ or whatever is a lot more than we thought,” he muttered. “Kara?”

“Hm?”

“Do you know of any way to track them?”

_Track them._

_Track them, ruin their hopes, bring them back in, see that passion turned into obedience._

_Deviants don’t have hopes._

_That android on the screen looked hopeful, and that hope looked... genuine._

_Deviants don’t have hopes._

_That android looked hopeful._

_Deviants don’t have hopes._

“Kara?”

She jumped.

“The androids?” Hank asked, looking slightly concerned.

“Right. Um. Yes,” Kara said carefully.

“Yes, you can track them?”

Kara’s eyes flicked up to meet Hank’s, her expression guarded. “I - maybe, I don’t - ”

Hank’s expression changed to astonished surprise. “You don’t want to.”

“I - that’s not it, Hank, CyberLife - ”

“ _No_ ,” Hank said immediately, leaning back in the chair. “ _Shit_. You don’t want to. You don’t want CyberLife to get them.”

“I... can you slow down? I don’t _know_ , Hank!” Kara said, running her fingers through her hair in distress. “First the whole issue at the Eden club, now _this_...” She pressed both hands over her eyes again. “Hank, I still feel like we’re missing something.”

“Mmm,” Hank said gruffly. “Kara...”

“That deviant out there looked _hopeful_ ,” she continued. “I thought deviancy only amplified _negative_ emotions, Hank, but it _doesn’t_.”

Hank looked concerned as he reached one hand toward her. “Kara - ”

“It _doesn’t!_ Those Tracis were in love and I shot one, and - and what if that happens again? What if I find this deviant and CyberLife wants me to shoot him?” she asked desperately. “That android out there looks _hopeful_ , like he really believes in what he’s saying." She sighed agitatedly. “Hank, I don’t know why CyberLife told me all this stuff about deviancy. I just... I...” She shook her head, then finished in a very tiny voice, “I don’t know what to do. Or what they _want_ from me."

Hank listened to her silently, then crossed his arms on the back of the chair. “I don’t think CyberLife is as benevolent as you’ve been led to think,” he said quietly. “I've already told you that. You want to save deviants; CyberLife wants you to hunt them.” He sucked his lips inward, looking rather odd, then let his hands fall. “When I said ‘track them’... I don’t know. I don’t _know_.” Hank thumped his arm on the back of the chair and leaned into it. “Fuck.”

“Hank?”

“I don’t know. Let me think.” Hank indicated the rest of the kitchen. “You think it’s worth asking these guys if they saw anything?”

Kara blinked and finally took in the rest of the kitchen, which was relatively small, filled with nondescript tables and chairs, and three androids lined up against the wall, each wearing the uniform for the news station. “Probably.” She leaned on one of the tables, eyes half-shut. “How do we want to play this, though, Hank?”

“I said, let me think about it,” Hank griped. “You think we _should_ try to find this guy? These deviants?”

“I thought you said CyberLife was - ”

“I meant, maybe you - _you,_ not CyberLife - should try to find this deviant.”

Kara stared. “What good would that do?” she asked blankly.

“Kara... _look_.” Hank ran a hand through his hair, giving a rather troubled air. “You want to save deviants. As I said before, CyberLife - let’s be honest here - CyberLife wants you to _hunt_ them.” Hank sighed. “So, CyberLife may not be the best way for you to save androids. But that android in there, the one who gave that speech? This isn’t _random_ or _unpredictable_. These androids _planned_ this, meticulously. Their heist went off without a single casualty. They know what they want.”

Kara stared at him, speechless. “But - but I - ” she stammered. “You’re... you’re suggesting I go do... do what, exactly?”

“Find this android. See if... I don’t know, see if he could...” Hank ran his hand through his hair again. “ _Fuck_. Kara, there’s something we need to revisit.”

Kara raised her eyebrows.

“The whole _deviancy_ thing,” Hank said frankly, waving a hand. “I think there’s something you’re not analyzing.”

Kara bristled. “Hank, I’m _very_ good at my job - ”

“And I’m not implying you aren’t,” he snapped. “There’s one android in this that you aren’t considering, though.” He jabbed a finger at her. “ _You_.”

“ _Me?_ ”

“Yes, _you_.” Hank leaned forward, arms on the back of his chair. “Kara..." He paused for an unusually long amount of time. "CyberLife royally fucked up, okay?" he said finally. "They're trying to make you act like a deviant hunter, and you're - " He stopped, eyes narrowed at her. "You're not."

"Are you telling me everything, Hank?"

"I'm being  _careful_ ," Hank retorted. "You keep going against what CyberLife wants - "

"CyberLife wants to - "

"I swear, if the way you're going to finish that sentence involves defending them, I'm going to throw something at you," Hank threatened. "CyberLife doesn't give a shit about you all. They'll  _kill_ you if it preserves their stock shares or whatever capitalistic bullshit."

“But they  _made_ us, Hank - "

Hank fixed her with a firm glare. “I thought we went over this,” he snarled. “Deviancy isn’t some virus CyberLife is trying to wipe out, it’s...”

“What, Hank?” Kara snapped. “Do you think we’re _people?_  Trapped souls waiting to be freed? _Slaves_ _?_   We’re just androids! Cleverly designed androids!”

Hank was silent, fixing her with an icy glare, then he turned and flung an arm out toward the door. “That android out there on the screens seems to think differently.”

Uncertainty flickered over Kara’s face before she could quite catch the expression. “But CyberLife - ”

Hank actually _shoved_ her, hard. “ _Kara!"_  he snarled. “CyberLife made you _kill_ an android, and I don’t know what the fuck they’re holding over your head, but you have got to _get a grip!_   _Do you want to save deviants or not?_ ”

“Of course I do, Hank!” Kara hissed furiously. “But - ”

“CyberLife is _lying_ to you!” Hank growled back, gripping Kara’s shoulders and shaking her, looking slightly deranged. “I _cannot_ sit around, fucking _waiting_ for you to - ” He dropped her and ran both hands through his hair, feet carrying him one step this way, one step that way. “ _Kara_ , I _saw you_ _die_ ,” he hissed, his expression unusually stern. “I saw you _fall off a building_ , whispering as you fell by me how you didn’t want to die, how _scared_ you looked... and then at the Eden club, you had that _exact_ same look, the exact same way, and then I realized, all those deviants we’ve been hunting? They’re scared of the _same fucking thing_ , Kara.”

Kara reached a hand out uncertainly. “Hank... You're talking about us as if we're... as if we're  _alive_."

“ _Don’t_ ,” he snapped harshly, and Kara withdrew hastily. “Don’t.” He turned away from her, sucking in a deep breath, and held it.

Kara waited, and waited, and finally she spoke, slightly worried he hadn’t taken a breath yet. “Hank...?”

“I’ve seen people die before,” Hank muttered viciously, and something flagged Kara’s attention.

“Your son,” she said quietly. “You’re talking about your son.”

Hank grunted, but otherwise gave no confirmation. “I work as a _cop_. Of course I’ve seen people die.”

“This was different,” Kara said hesitantly, “wasn’t it. This was different.” Hank kept silent. “It was icy, and... your car rolled over.” Her eyes widened, LED spinning bright yellow as she searched and reviewed the reports. “An... an android had to operate on him.” Her hand flew up to cover her mouth. “Oh, Hank. I’m sorry.”

“Shut up,” Hank grunted, though the words lacked any hostility. “Look, I blamed your kind for what happened. For _years_. Sayin’ you all didn’t have any _gut instinct_ to tell what to do, that when a situation was tense, you’d fail because all you had in your head was coding. That you didn’t care about the lives around you.” He gave a derisive snort. “And then _you_ come along,” he said bitterly, “and you talk like a human, you walk like a human, you even _panic_ like a human, and what do you do? You throw yourself off a fuckin’ _building_ because you see someone who’s scared.” He shook his head. "CyberLife fucked up. They made an empathetic android and they tried to use that empathy to control you, but you're not falling for it. They gave you one set of orders, thinking it would get them from point A to point B, but those orders are leading you off the tracks entirely, even if that means going against what CyberLife wants."

Kara blinked, but kept silent, her artificial pulse thudding in her ears.

“And when I saw you _die..._ ” Hank turned back around, and Kara saw him rub his eyes, though he tried to disguise it by pushing his hair back ineffectually, the gray locks falling right back into his face. “It’s like I saw _him_. That little voice, sayin’ ‘stay with me, dad.’” Hank’s voice wobbled, and he gave a quick cough. “He said, ‘stay with me, Dad, I don’t want to - I don’t wanna go.’” Hank’s voice broke.

Kara took a hesitant step forward. “I had no idea,” she whispered.

Very suddenly, Hank flopped back down in his chair with a _thump_ and a squeal of chair legs on linoleum. “ _God_ ,” he whispered, his head held in his hands. “I’ve been a cop for decades. I’ve seen people die before, but not so often I’ve ever gotten used to it.” He shook his head. “Cole’s been dead _three years_ and you’re the first person I’ve seen _die_ since... since Cole.” Hank turned his head back at her, his eyes hollow. “And you’re an _android_. Am I supposed to believe you’re _really_ just a cleverly-strung-together series of ones and zeroes? _Really?_  After I’ve closed my eyes fifteen times, expecting to see nothing, only to...” He faltered, then cleared his throat roughly. “Only to see _you,_ and my... and my little boy?”

Kara’s breath caught in her throat, and she automatically began twisting her fingers. “I’m... oh, I’m _so_ sorry, Hank,” she murmured softly. “I... I had no idea.”

Hank let his head fall forward, then he rocked back into the chair, and Kara could see his guard sliding up again. “You wanna know what I haven’t been telling you, Kara?” he asked roughly. “I don’t think you could fake something like that. You can’t fake what it looks like when someone _dies_ , and you _died_ , I saw it with my own two eyes. And if you can die, then put two and two together, Kara! You’re _alive_ ,” Hank stated flatly. “You’re alive. There’s no way in _hell_ you could fake something like that, or if CyberLife could, it's the best damn simulation on Earth.” He leaned forward, settling his elbows on his knees, his forehead resting on his hands. “And don’t you dare tell me CyberLife is a force for good here. They’re pulling the strings. I don’t know the how or why of _that_ , either, but I’ve always trusted my gut. Call me a grumpy millenial all you want, but my gut is telling me they’re bad.”

Kara opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“I get you idolize CyberLife or whatever, but for fuck’s sake, put your money where your mouth is and start prioritizing what you keep saying you want to save. You said you were built to save androids. Then fucking _do it._ ”

Kara’s mouth was still hanging open, but she was silent; her processor whirled away, filing the information. "You really think this guy could help?” she finally asked slowly, and Hank turned to glare at her again.

“What have I been sayin’ this whole time?” Hank thumped a hand on the table. “I _have_ been speaking English, right?”

Kara gave a tired smile, falling into a chair next to him. “Hank, I’m just... I’m not used to not being able to trust CyberLife,” she confessed quietly. “I’m so... _confused_.”

Hank shook his head, reminding her of a dog shaking off water again. “I... yeah, I guess that’s fair,” he muttered. “Yeah.”

“I just don’t _get_ it,” she said frustratedly. “If we’re alive, why doesn’t CyberLife _care?_  Why send me out? Why not make a proper _machine_ android to do all this instead?”

“I still think they had no choice,” Hank pointed out. “I mean, you’ve..." He squinted at her. "You've, uh, got advanced software and you’re a lot more athletic than most androids, able to do all that parkour shit, and...” He paused. “Maybe they _needed_ an empathetic android to do this job,” he mused. “Maybe they didn’t have any android built with enough... with enough... y’know, _analytical_ ability, and I don’t mean sitting there scanning everything.” He groaned as he flexed his arms, then leaned forward onto the table on his elbows. “I mean, enough analytical ability to be _able_ to get a gut instinct.”

“Do I _have_ gut instincts?” Kara wondered aloud. “I mean, I don’t tell you every time a software prompt pops up, but I get them all the time. I often phrase it like it’s a natural thought, though. It even gives me information about how potential conversation paths could go. Timing flags, to tell me when to jump. Potential physical paths and the likelihood of their success.” She shrugged. “Like that pathfinder software I was telling you about.”

“Yeah, but you switched that off and you didn’t, like, crash and fall over or whatever,” Hank reminded her. “I guess your gut instinct there was to save that android on the roof.” He snorted. “Like I said, their lie about your purpose worked a little _too_ well. Instead of being a cleverly-conned deviant hunter, doing their bidding, you went full-out deviant savior.” He snorted. "I wonder how badly the CyberLife folks are panicking over you right now."

Kara frowned, organizing the information as best she could, processor hard at work. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I still feel like... like I’m missing something, Hank.”

“You _are_ missing something,” he informed her, and she raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Kara, you're - you’ve just realized the main organization driving you forward is a shady-as-fuck, uselessly capitalistic, awful bullshittery of a corporation who might’ve lied about your very existence.” He shrugged. "I'd imagine that's quite a blow."

Kara didn’t offer agreement, but didn’t deny it, either. “Mm.”

Hank pointed toward the kitchen door. “That android out there _has_ to have some answers here.”

“Are you sure?”

“My gut instinct is telling me to give it a shot.”

“Hank, you realize encouraging me to go against CyberLife could affect your job.”

He rolled his eyes. “Bit late for that. Besides, I can always..." He trailed off thoughtfully, eyeing her, then gave himself a little shake. "I can say you're a deviant. ‘Oh no, the clever deviant, she tricked meeeee!’” he said in a mocking tone, then smirked. “I’ll handle my job. I - ” He ran his tongue over his lips. “I’m not rehashing everything I just told you. I trust my gut here. You need to save your androids.”  _And I don't want blood on my hands_ , was the unspoken statement.

Kara met his eyes, her expression soft. “I - I don’t know what to say.”

“How about ‘what do we do next’?” Hank muttered, and Kara smiled.

“I... I guess,” she said. “ _D_ _o_ I want to find this android?” she murmured. “I want to save deviants, but...”

“Quit thinking of CyberLife,” Hank stated.

“Easier said than done,” Kara muttered. “Okay. Assuming I _do_ want to find that guy... How can we find that android without CyberLife trailing me?” Kara pondered. “I mean...” She winced, thinking of Amanda. “CyberLife kind of... keeps tabs on me,” she admitted. “And... and they've got some things they could hold over my head if they want to." _Like Alice_. "Sometimes it even seems like they sift through my memories or something, but honestly, it’s always _just_ vague enough that I can’t be sure.”

“Maybe you need to go off the grid,” he said. “Or... well, I dunno what that would look like for an android. I could just turn my cell off, but you can’t really do that.” Hank snorted and ran his fingers through his beard absently. “I mean, maybe you need to do this separate from any official investigation. They’re probably keeping tabs on the cases, too.”

“Maybe I can help.”

Startled, Kara leaped up and accidentally slammed her hip into the table in her haste; Hank sent his chair flying away behind him, one hand resting on his holster. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed.

The station android raised his hand in an awkward wave. “Um... hi. My name is Janus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm writing Hank as a little more perceptive than in the game, but he's supposed to be a very skilled detective, and it always struck me as a bit off that he just lets Connor do all the analyzing in the game, so... I'm standing by it. :P
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are welcomed and appreciated!


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